Erase & Rewind, Version 2
by Alisha Ashton
Summary: A fanfic for Neal McDonough and Sean Bean's characters in The Hitcher 2007 . Exploring what would have happened if Ryder/Bean had met BadGirl instead of John and Grace. SMUT WARNING! NC-17 YUMMY SMUT! For Lt. Esteridge/McDonough AND Ryder fans! LOL
1. BadGirl and Angry Johnny

**ERASE and REWIND, VERSION 2  
**_**Written by:**_badgirl2bad4u

_**Characters/Pairings: **_Lt. Esteridge and...well what d'ya know...ME! ;) haha  
_**Description: **_A fan fiction for Neal McDonough's character, Lt. Esteridge, in The Hitcher, in which he meets BadGirl and smut ensues. Will continue with several "erase and rewinds" of the same story exploring all avenues it could have taken.

_**Rated:**_ **NC-17**

_**

* * *

**_

DEDICATED TO MY BABYGIRL, DARKESTSTARRMS who introduced me to the movie The Hitcher.

_**"I'm a Philly chickie, only travel for the best of men. Had me out Atlanta just to see you in your belt and Tims..." **_-- Ms. Jade

_

* * *

_

**PREVIOUSLY:**

"BadGirl cursed as steam billowed out from under the hood of her now useless vehicle, coasting it to the side of the road and damning her preference for classic cars. Without the aid of power steering it was a bitch to turn the wheel and she was already sweating her ass off under the New Mexico sun. Air conditioning was yet another luxury not afforded by driving a classic and you couldn't get a 2-60-AC going (roll down two windows and do 60 miles per hour) when your car was dead weight. She had rebuilt this bad ass baby blue 78 Mustang II from scratch and this was the thanks she got.

_Several moments were spent after she had come to a halt on the side of the dusty desert road having a deep conversation with the vehicle. She let it know how unfair it was being after the brand new heads she'd just installed and how much care she'd taken in modifying the radiator to meet the sudden rise in temperature from what it was used to. Her car was the only family she'd taken with her on this little venture from the east coast and she was suddenly wishing for a freezing cold winter in Philadelphia with a Gino's cheese-steak to keep her warm._

_Sighing in defeat she opened the door and climbed out, glaring up at the sun which she swore was mocking her as she opened the hood and backed away to let the heat escape.  
After the steam had dissipated at least somewhat she leaned in to take a look, tracing the length of the cooling system and finding that her problems were very quickly going from bad to worse._

_Split hoses...okay, that was easy enough to fix...hmmm...cracked radiator...not so easy to fix. She'd be damned if she'd put bars-leak or any other so-called "quick-fix" into her baby. That crap had a way of choking an engine in a manner thoroughly reminiscent of a heart attack. The first time she'd torn this motor down every port had been filled with that sludge and had been the reason it wound up in the junkyard to begin with. She leaned in a little further and nearly fainted seeing the antifreeze pouring out from every possible source like a sprinkler._

_"FUCK!" She screamed as she turned from the car to no one in particular, other than maybe the vultures who were staring at her from the distance as if she were prime-rib. She flipped them off and watched them flap their wings in response._

_Some vacation this was, she thought bitterly as she shielded her eyes and searched for anything she could head toward in this desolate hell of a state. Not a damned thing in any direction but sand, dirt, rock and tumbleweed._

_She growled that she'd seen entirely too many horror movies that started off exactly like this and decided to..."_

_**

* * *

**_

ERASE & REWIND...VERSION 2, PART 1

"BADGIRL & ANGRY JOHNNY"

* * *

...try to rig the motor at least temporarily. If she could get it to stop leaking quite so severely she could use the gallons of antifreeze in her hatch to limp it along to the next town.

She pulled her hair up in a messy bun at the top of her head, lighting a cigarette and walking to the rear of her car, holding it between her lips as she popped the hatch.

She drew on the cigarette as she dug her toolbox out and smiled at a memory. It was a strange thing for a father to have to teach their daughter, but the ability to smoke hands-free had been a lesson he'd been forced to give when his teenage rebel of a daughter had decided to fill the position of apprentice in his auto shop. They'd been some of the funnest years of her life.

A soft laugh escaped her lips recalling the day she'd been sitting on top of the motor of his Toyota Supra Turbo wrenching to her heart's content and had heard the words, "since when do you have tattoos?" come from him behind her in an annoyed tone.

Up until then she'd always left her hair down to cover it, despite the heat or how much it got in her face, but the ever elusive EGR valve project on his car had made her forget to be discrete about her ink. She'd cringed and said, "I just got that one a few months ago...", only to be cut off with, "That ONE? How many do you have?"

He'd said "tattoos"...and he did it on purpose, deliberately let her walk right into the trap he'd laid down for her. She shook her head recalling the way she'd tiptoed around him for weeks afterward...only to have to do it all over again when she got her eyebrow pierced. He'd wondered if she'd been fighting or something, the way she kept her hair hiding one side of her face at all times until finally she was hit with the words, "what the HELL is sticking out of your face?" at dinner one night.

She pulled a shop blanket out of the backseat and tucked it under her arm, lugging the toolbox and a few gallons of antifreeze around the front with her and getting to work setting up her make-shift service department. It was quite a while before the motor cooled enough to attempt working on it since this deserted road was the last place she wanted to be if she suffered third degree burns.

Finally content that, while it would hurt like a bitch, she'd survive if any splashed on her she slid under the front of her car with a drop light, her beloved set of Snap-On gear wrenches, her lucky 3/4" drive ratchet and a tube of liquid gasket; another Marlboro pressed between her lips.

She knew it was a fool's hope that the goo would manage to harden in this heat before the sunset. Sighing she decided if worse came to worse she could reapply it a few times and sleep in her car overnight, allowing it to dry in the frigid night air.

She was on to repairing the second leak when she heard it...

Her eyes went wide, hands froze in place and she swallowed hard.

Boots were crunching along the gravel heading in her direction, and she most definitely had not heard a car. She reached over and grabbed her lucky ratchet for protection...

Now, for those of you who have never seen one I'll give it to you like this:

There is absolutely _no reason_ for a person to carry a ratchet of that size _except_ as a weapon, which was precisely why she'd bought it. Her father had laughed his ass off watching her eyes light up when she'd seen in at the parts store. He'd tried to talk her out of it, telling her that any job that required something that large needed to be done with an impact gun but she'd been determined to buy it.

Quite simply, a 3/4" drive ratchet is 10 lbs of chrome vanadium steel just a little shorter than a baseball bat with a head the size of a fist, it had been her constant driving companion.

BadGirl wrapped her fingers around the diamond-knurled grip, hearing the boots stop in front of her. Steadying her nerves she climbed out from under the car, finding a stranger staring back at her just a few yards away.

She supposed the man could be considered handsome...that is, if she were able to get past the cold fear that his presence sent racing up her spine.

His face was rough, like he'd seen too much violence in his time. She noted a few too many scars covering his hands and knew without a doubt they'd hurt people in the past. His hair was cut for purpose, not style, reminding her of those given in the military...prison...or most likely, judging by her gut instincts, insane asylums.

"Car troubles?" He asked with a smile that didn't reach his deadened eyes, and she shifted the ratchet in her hand letting her bicep flex slightly, showing him that she had no difficulty with its dense weight.

He was speaking in a strange accent and she tried to place it, her fear growing as she identified it as some horrible melting pot of every voice he'd ever heard, as if he'd sponged up a piece of everyone he'd met trying to decide how a person was supposed to act.

_Sociopath..._

She arched a brow at him as the word reverberated off the walls of her mind, her features hardening as every warning bell in her body rang in red alert. This was an empty shell staring back at her, hollow of emotion or conscience and all alone with her for countless miles in any direction.

"What about you?" She asked skeptically, inclining her head to the desolate surroundings. "Or are you just out for a stroll in the middle of nowhere?"

He laughed and shrugged, ignoring her as if she didn't matter while his eyes wandered over the deserted landscape.

_Oh fuck me runnin...he's looking for witnesses_...she realized instantly, her grip on the ratchet tightening as her heart began hammering inside her chest. This wasn't some drunken roofer or horny sailor she was dealing with...she could handle herself just fine against those types...this was a cold blooded killer. She knew it to be truth to her very core.

He flexed his jaw seeing her spreading her feet in the gravel for better traction in his peripheral vision. His phony smile faded as he realized the girl could see right through him.

It was rare to find someone so intuitive, most people welcomed him into their homes, their cars, let him sit next to their children at dinner without ever suspecting something was wrong...

_But not this one..._

He took a step toward her and at the exact same time she took a step back, his lips curled in his real smile, the one he usually only shared with his victims as the last breath left their lungs. She intrigued him, now it was time to see if she was worthy of it.

Another step forward, another step back...but she wasn't running...

_Good girl_...he thought to himself..._smart girl..._

She couldn't be sure if he had a gun and wasn't going to take a chance in removing those blue and yellow eyes from him even for a second.

"What's your name?" He asked as he stared her straight in the eye, and she fought back a wave of terror at the way he was suddenly studying her . Why did the psychos always find her so interesting?

"What the fuck does it matter?" She spat back, bringing her free hand to the grip of her ratchet. She knew she'd be swinging it very shortly.

He smiled, taking yet another step forward as she took another step back, nearly grinning at the little dance they were doing.

"I'm curious, is all..." He answered honestly, tilting his head to the side as his thoughts raced with excitement. He marveled at his good luck in finding this new playmate, images flashing through his mind of what he wanted to do to her.

He took another step forward and to his sheer delight this time she swung that ratchet...

_Hard..._

His shoulder sung in agony but he'd let her hit him full force for a reason, waiting for the instant she had allowed her weight to shift forward to draw back his fist and bring it across her face.

The impact sent her spinning and she stumbled backward quickly, clutching her jaw and spitting out blood, glaring at him in defiance when she should have looked so fearful...

He rushed her and she swung the ratchet lower this time, aiming for his knees...

But he had a much longer reach than she had time to avoid, before she could connect he had tackled her and forced her to the ground, backhanding her repeatedly and struggling to pin her down. He was waiting for one of his blows to provide enough shock for her to give up the fight for a second, it was all he would need...but her expression was something different entirely.

_Rage_...absolute, primal and exquisite rage was twisting her features despite the pain of what he was doing to her and he loved every second of it.

He was too busy admiring her face to notice the ratchet coming, and she brought it up to the side of his head with enough force to knock him off of her, instantly climbing to her feet and backing away from him.

But nothing was going to stop this, she knew. Offering money wouldn't help...asking him what he wanted would serve no purpose...he just wanted her to die.

He was standing again so quickly, smiling at her despite the blood trickling down the side of his face. She needed to drop the ratchet, to grab her knife but there just wasn't any time...and as he rushed her again she landed another blow to his left shoulder with all of her strength, knowing it had done damage but it didn't make a damned bit of difference.

In an instant he had her, grabbing her with his uninjured arm and spinning her around so that her back was pressed against him. She began to fight with surprising fury and he grinned as he brought his other arm down around her despite the pain of at least one broken bone.

She was biting and screaming, elbows connecting with his ribs and stomach violently, those heavy boots slamming into his shins and knees with all her might. Her hands were reaching up for his face and he ducked down behind her head, laughing in pure delight as her fingers slid over his close-cut hair finding nothing to hold onto.

And somewhere in a dark corner of her mind for the first time in her life she cursed not having those long girlie nails...

_She was fighting so hard_..his arousal flashed to new heights as he thought to himself..._but she knew...she already knew it was no use...she could see him...she understood that for him pain was part of life, like breathing and dying...it wouldn't deter him like it had those she'd fought off in the past. _

He brought his fist down against her stomach over and over, listening to her screams as the wind was knocked out of her and loving the way she still fought despite the pain he was inflicting.

It seemed neither of them intended to let it slow them down.

"Shh...shhh..." He whispered in her ear as his hand tightened around her throat and she froze immediately.

His entire body trembled with excitement as his mouth dropped open, he took a choppy breath...his playmate _knew what he was doing_, understood completely that if he wanted to he could crush her windpipe and leave her to suffocate.

His eyes fluttered closed as he pressed his mouth against her hair, inhaling the scent of her shampoo and sweat as his mind painted the graphic scene of her lying in the sand, staring up at him with terror and panic etched in her features as she died an excruciating and prolonged death...leaving him able to enjoy it from start to finish as he wouldn't have to do anything more than _squeeze_ to start the process...

She felt him hardening against the small of her back as his fingers flexed on her throat and as if reading his thoughts began fighting again.

With her struggling frantically in his grasp he leaned backward as he walked toward the car, effectively lifting her feet off the ground and tightening his arms around her until her screams told him his grip was near to popping her joints from their sockets. The position took some of the fight out of her, it was difficult to reach him with her back suddenly arched so severely against him. He slammed her against the car aggressively, hissing in response to her painful scream.

_That's right, scream for help...beg..._

But something occurred to him and his eyes widened, he spun her around to face him, forcing his hips between her thighs for no reason other than to prevent any more of her powerful kicks as he pounded her wrists against the roof of the car above her head, staring with evident confusion down at her face.

_She wasn't crying...why wasn't she crying?_

_He must be doing something wrong..._

BadGirl called out in pain as he leaned forward and bit down on her shoulder, writhing in his grasp and screaming in agony as he drew blood. His breathing grew ragged feeling her squirm against him, but as his eyes wandered up to her face he was thunderstruck to find no tears in her eyes.

"What the fuck is your name?" He asked again as he backhanded her, screaming in her face in frustration.

_She wasn't playing right..._

His voice was gruff without a hint of his earlier accent and she knew he'd let go of his facade completely. This was the real him, whoever the hell he was.

She didn't speak, just stared up at him intensely as blood ran down her chest.

This was a game, and to lose it was to lose her life. If she gave him her name than he'd won, he'd gotten his way...he'd have succeeded in controlling her with the fear he inflicted.

If she gave him that satisfaction it was over, she'd have served her purpose. She would be just another toy cast aside by an attention starved child who was desperately seeking a companion.

His features twisted in rage at her lack of cooperation and without warning he brought his fist down across her face, the world around her dimming slightly as her legs gave out beneath her, her body slumping forward but he held her upright as he pinned her against the car.

She leaned her face on his chest for support as she screamed and fought for consciousness, moaning and using his body to ease the pain shooting through her cheek and jaw since he still had her hands pinned.

In her dazed and agonized state she felt his body tense at her touch, recoiling slightly at having a woman seeking comfort from him and something inside her clicked.

She'd found her way out...

She steeled herself to do the unthinkable, shocking him completely by taking his mouth with hers in a passionate, deep kiss.

He didn't react for a second, so surprised that he couldn't decide how to respond, but his body decided for him...

He growled into her mouth, breathing raggedly as his hands released their crushing grip on her wrists, wandering over her breasts and down to her ass, lifting her up so that he could press into the heat between her thighs.

He _wanted_ her...it was so strange to allow himself to admit that...he wanted to touch her, to taste her...to take her...

Despite himself he let go, his face becoming a mask of pain and pleasure all at once as the world around him faded away. He was succumbing to the unfamiliar pleasure she was giving him, feeding on the soft moans vibrating through his mouth from hers. She wrapped her legs around his waist, showing him that he was welcome, offering herself to him willingly.

Breaking the kiss she let her mouth wander over his jaw as her hands caressed the back of his head, she was wiggling her ass in his hands pleadingly, asking him to fuck her, nibbling at his flesh and purring.

Why was she _doing_ this?

He just couldn't understand it, none of the others had ever acted this way with him...he'd never allowed himself to...indulge...in someone so eager for him...he had never had anyone who was...

The disorientation caused by her actions and the sensations running through him were so new, he couldn't get himself to think clearly.

"What's _your_ name?" She breathed into his ear and sucked his earlobe, holding onto his shoulders as his head rolled back in ecstasy.

His brow furrowed in confusion through the clouds of pleasure. "Why?" He choked out before bringing his mouth back to hers, lost in the strange new comfort she was providing.

"I want to know what to _scream_..." She purred back between hot kisses and he smiled in his dazed state imagining the sound. He loved the screams...and he'd never had one saying his name before...

The instant it formed in his mind, threatening to fall from his lips, he snapped back to reality, throwing her to the ground brutally as his thoughts screamed disgust for her as well as his own actions.

She landed face first, coughing as the wind was knocked out of her and struggling to get to her hands and knees.

He was staring at her with wide eyed shock, his mouth hanging open as he came to terms with the fact that she'd almost beat him at his very own game. That realization earned her an enraged kick to the side of her stomach and she screamed in pain, clutching her ribs and curling into a ball.

So angry with her he quickly decided to end it, to ignore the rules and take her life as punishment for tricking him.

He took a step forward and to his surprise she scurried away quickly, rolling onto her back and freeing a wicked looking blade from her boot, lashing out and succeeding in slicing an upward arc across his stomach and chest.

His face relaxed slightly as he backed away, appreciation for the sight of her in that moment quelling some of his rage.

"Do it..." He urged, and she climbed to her feet holding the blade out in a way that told him she knew how to use it.

Sounds of an approaching vehicle caused them both to flinch, staring one another down, daring the other to turn away and look. When she refused to budge he smiled, holding his hands up as if trying to calm her.

To an onlooker it would appear he was the victim in that moment.

She clenched her jaw, glaring at him defiantly. He wouldn't win. She wouldn't let him. If she had to slash his throat in front of a witness than so be it, one more move and he was a dead man, the decision had been made.

The passing eighteen wheeler laid on its horn when they came into view but to her shock it kept right on going, not bothering to stop to lend assistance to either of them.

The stranger lowered his hands a moment after silence had settled over them once more, looking at her in some twisted form of adoration. "You would really do it, even if he stopped?" He asked and she looked at him in confusion.

"What kind of question is that? _Of course_ I'll fucking kill you. Between the two of us I pick me. I'll be down the road drinking a shot to your memory before the vultures even start picking at your sick ass." She said, truly perplexed that he needed to hear that.

_She was the one..._

The thought astounded him, his excitement at the revelation made it hard to breathe and he closed his eyes as relief passed over him.

But he'd imagined this being far more difficult, had spent years picturing how it should happen. 'I'll fucking kill you' ...with that declaration from her it was decided, and now that it was here he felt a sort of sadness in his chest...he wasn't ready yet.

There was supposed to be _blood_...so much blood...and tears...and pleading before the end...

His face contorted in pleasure again as he quickly made the choice to keep this going.

It was, after all, far too early to put an end to their game.

BadGirl's brow arched defiantly at the emotions passing over his face. He seemed..._happy_...about something. The possibilities as to what that might be sent chills through her. She wasn't lowering her knife, though. Not one fraction of an inch.

There wasn't a doubt in his mind that another step in her direction would result in death.

"Then you can help me..." He said softly as he opened his eyes.

"Help y--? Are you off your fucking meds or something?" She asked angrily, but faltered a little as he reached behind his back and withdrew the gun he'd been saving for this moment.

"Drop it." He said, motioning to her knife and she swallowed hard.

Staring down the barrel of a .45 didn't really leave a lot of room for argument.

She let the knife fall from her hand and held them both up in surrender, complying when he motioned for her to kick the blade to the side.

"Turn around..." He whispered and she ground her teeth together painfully.

She clenched her jaw and shook her head. This wasn't how she was supposed to go out but she'd be damned if she'd be shot in the back, she would at least have the dignity to face her own death.

He smiled knowing what she was thinking.

"Trust me..." He said in a soft tone and she stared at him in disbelief.

He _couldn't_ be serious...

But he was..._oh God_ he really was...

He waited patiently as she growled in frustration and turned away from him, her eyes staring out at the barren landscape as she bitterly came to terms with the fact that it would be the last thing she'd see in this world.

His hand on her waist surprised her, his mouth on the side of her neck kissing her sweetly shocked her more.

"You value your life? You would kill anyone who stood in your way in order protect it?" He asked, resting his chin on her shoulder and smiling as she nodded. "And you don't want to die?"

_Please...Oh God, I don't want to die!!_ A voice inside her mind was pleading hysterically and she shook her head, leaning back against him as a lump began to rise in her throat. No tears, though. She refused to cower in the face of inevitable death.

He sighed, he'd felt like that once, but not anymore. Now all that remained for him were the days...hours...minutes...until she would put an end to it all for him.

It was sick, twisted...psychotic even...but she reached up to the back of his head, holding him to her as she closed her eyes and tried desperately to keep it together. Facing the final moments of your life had an odd effect on a person, she wanted someone to hold her, even if it was her killer.

He wrapped his arm around her, kissing her cheek and sighing contentedly that his playmate had not disappointed him.

"Will you tell me your name now?" He asked, and she thought about it for a moment.

The game was over, he had her dead to rights. It no longer mattered. She wasn't scared, she had already faced her fear and had won his game...at least until he'd changed the rules.

"Alisha..." She whispered. "My name is Alisha..."

He turned her around in his arms, smiling down at her in appreciation for the gift of that knowledge.

"Then, Alisha..." His smile widened and her heart beat frantically in her chest, pleading to be allowed to continue its rhythm. "This is goodbye..." He said and her body tensed expectantly.

To her surprise he didn't take aim, and she only had a fraction of a second to let the shock show on her face before he brought the butt of the gun down on her, knocking her unconscious.

"For now..." He said, smiling at her as she fell to the ground.


	2. Sunset Cowboy & BloodSpattered Damsel

_**Rated:**_ **NC-17  
**

_**

* * *

**_

ERASE & REWIND...VERSION 2, PART 2

"SUNSET COWBOY & THE BLOOD-SPATTERED DAMSEL"

* * *

"SP-422 to Lieutenant Esteridge, please respond..."

He reached over to the radio on his desk, taking a swig of coffee before answering. "Lieutenant Esteridge here, go ahead..."

"Officers responding to reported 245 in progress in the vicinity of mile marker 1086 on Route 285 are requesting your presence."

Esteridge arched a brow, since when did they call the Lieutenant of the State Police for an assault?

Sighing that there had to be a reason he stood and pulled on his hat and jacket, leaning across his desk and calling back on the radio that he was on his way. He exited the station quickly, climbing into his black SUV and pulling onto the dusty road leading to the highway, completely unaware of how truly screwed up his afternoon was about to become.

There were three patrol cars along with a powder blue classic Mustang waiting for him on the side of the road and a wave of concern filled him as his eyes passed over the scene.

While there didn't seem to be a shortage of officers, the lack of any suspects, victims or witnesses struck him as a bad sign. He shifted into park and stepped out, nodding his head to the muttered greetings of the local PD as he approached.

"So what do we have?" He asked, his eyes still searching for what was missing.

"A call came in about a half hour ago from a trucker at the Golden Eagle Diner, said he'd passed by this way and had seen a woman holding a man at knife point...described this vehicle as being present..." The officer to his left began and he held up a hand.

"So he saw that there was trouble and just kept going, effectively waiting another...what, 45 minutes?...to make the call after he reached the diner? He couldn't have contacted someone by radio? Cell phone? Anything?" Esteridge asked in disgust and the officer shrugged, not knowing what the man had been thinking.

He sighed and motioned for the officer to continue as he approached the vehicle. This crime scene was already more than an hour cold and his jaw flexed in aggravation as he started investigating.

"We ran the plates, it's not coming back as stolen. The car is registered to a Ms. Alisha -- of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania..."

"Long way from home..." Esteridge thought aloud as the officer continued.

A toolbox was laying in front of the car, its spray-painted diamond-deck exterior was decorated with red and black skulls and a sticker that read 'Evil shouldn't look this good'. His eyes wandered down to the black shop blanket, its center had a red stitched set of horns and tail surrounding the words 'Bad Girl'...

What did we have here? A _female's_ tools?

He gritted his teeth and looked under the car, seeing the repairs that had been left abruptly and pointed at a cigarette butt that was laying on top of the blanket. One of the officers leaned in and picked it up with a gloved hand, dropping it into an evidence bag and handing it over to Esteridge. He arched a brow inspecting it, walking to the driver's side and peering in at the positioning of the seats and mirrors. Sliding on a pair of gloves he leaned in, picking up a small photo album from the floor of the back seat.

There were pictures of a family, a group of friends hanging out in a garage drinking and showing off their cars. They were all large men, intimidating looking rough and tumble types..._save one_.

She stood out at the center of the group like a sore thumb, her mischievous smile and bright blond hair as drastic a change in comparison to her friends as was her size. She was the only common face throughout the album. He pulled a picture of her free, staring down at it and saying a quick prayer for her before handing it over to one of the officers.

"Here's who we're looking for." He said and the man nodded.

"Pretty girl, what the hell was she doing out here?" He mused before heading back to his patrol car and Esteridge sighed wondering the exact same thing.

"When we arrived here we found it just like this. We searched the area for any sign of the two...but this is all we could find..." He waved Esteridge to follow him about twenty feet out into the sand, showing a taped off section that was currently being photographed.

The tracks told the tale of a struggle and he tried to play it out. The man was large, likely in the area of 6' tall judging by his gate and boot imprints. They'd had one hell of a tussle and Esteridge watched officers wrapping an extremely large ratchet in plastic, its head covered in blood.

Another prayer was said for the smiling girl in the picture.

He sighed and looked at a line of blood spatter across the sand and rock, his eyes following it as he walked along the edge of the police tape. The girl had gone down just a few feet after the spatter and his jaw flexed with concern for her safety.

Sometimes he hated his job...

Esteridge's eyes were busy reading the tracks like a book, and he almost cursed the interruption when the officer he was following cleared his throat.

"This is where they end..." He motioned to another imprint in the shape of the girl's body and the pool of blood that was slowly being covered by sand.

"You done taking pictures yet?" He called and waited for them to nod before ducking under the tape and moving in for a closer inspection. He crouched down beside the empty space that had held the missing girl just an hour earlier, biting his bottom lip and speaking over his shoulder as his eyes remained on the blood. "And you brought me out here for authorization to start a search, right?"

The officers shifted and looked at one another. "Yes, sir." One of them answered, waiting for him to look back at them to direct his gaze to the foot prints leading back to the road. Esteridge nodded his head in understanding.

The man had carried her away from the scene on foot, they had to be close.

"Done." He said as he stood. "Do what you have to do and let me know if you need anything...and call me the moment you find...something." He ordered and they agreed, each heading to their cars to start making the necessary calls.

He climbed back into his vehicle and slamming the door behind him he let the silence settle his nerves.

He hated this part, the waiting when he knew what was coming. They'd find her in a shallow grave and it would be over, an innocent life claimed by an unknown assailant. Just a cold case left to collect dust, another murder on a deserted stretch of highway.

"332 requesting the presence of Lieutenant Esteridge at mile marker 1025 on Route 285..." A voice squawked from the radio on his dash and his brow furrowed. "Officers have declared the scene location of a 187..."

His eyes widened. "Busy road today..." He breathed sarcastically as he reached out for the receiver and responded, "Please advise 332 that I am en route and will arrive on scene shortly."

He set out but the fear in his stomach for the missing girl had him calling back into the radio just a second later. "Dispatch this is Lieutenant Esteridge, please connect me to 332..." He rested his hand against his chin. He couldn't drive all the way out there not knowing.

"This is 332, come back..." The officer responded and he let out a sigh.

"332 this is Lieutenant Esteridge, what is the physicality of your 187?" He asked and held his breath.

"187 is a Caucasian male, late thirties..."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Copy that, on my way now."

The miles flew by in a blur leaving Esteridge lost in thought. He was running through everything in his mind, laying out the stretch of road between the two scenes.

Was the body he was on his way to view that of the attacker?

But with the man carrying the girl when he'd set out, and hell, even if he hadn't been, they couldn't have made it in that time on foot...

61 miles? In this heat and injured? Not possible. There had to have been another vehicle somewhere along the way.

He recalled the Mustang's interior and frowned. Both seats had been pulled too far forward to allow for the apparent size of the male, so where had he come from? There hadn't been a trace of anyone other than the female being in that car, and there had been no sign of another vehicle being anywhere near the scene.

If the man had arrived on foot and left on foot that meant a third party had come into the picture after the initial confrontation...

So he either had a second victim or a second suspect on his hands, otherwise why hadn't they called it in?

He picked up a few of the evidence bags and let his eyes stray from the road for a second to verify what he'd seen earlier. The cigarette butt from beneath the car had lip gloss on it, it hadn't been the man fixing the motor, it had been her. Those really were her tools...

That shot the theory of him offering assistance to lure her into a false sense of security right out of the water. He must have come across her when she was trying to get back on the road and attacked her, and by the looks of that ratchet she put up a hell of a fight.

With a sigh he tossed the bags back onto his passenger seat, his gaze returning to the road just in time.

His eyes grew wide as he took in the form of a body lying ahead and he slammed on the brakes, swerving to the left and coming within mere inches of the remains of whoever it was by the time he'd stopped skidding.

He sat in his seat for a moment, struggling to catch his breath before finally grabbing his radio. "Esteridge to Dispatch, get me a _God damned _meat wagon out to marker..." He spun around in his seat, peering out the windows and trying to gauge his location. "...approximate mile marker 1062...we've got another one..."

He slammed the radio back into its holder, resting his head on his forearm across the top of his steering wheel for a second waiting for them to respond.

In the silence his mind replayed what had just happened over and over, and his stomach knotted up as the flash of the body he'd seen in the road slowly became clear in his mind.

"Oh God..." He breathed, unbuckling his seat-belt and slowly climbing out of his SUV.

He walked around the front tracing his hand over the grill, holding his breath as her blond hair came into view. His feet froze in place for a moment before he managed to take hesitant steps closer, shaking his head at her blood spattered form.

"Damn..." Esteridge whispered, his eyes tearing at such a waste of life and he bit his lip, forcing himself to approach to find the cause of death...

He had just reached out a hand to brush the hair away from her face when she started to stir.

Despite himself the words "_holy Christ_" rolled from his mouth as his emotions instantly soared from hesitancy to panic for her.

"Hey...hey, honey. Now...now...now don't try to move..." He pleaded in a soft tone as he knelt beside her but she was still trying desperately, every muscle in her body trembling in a mix of exhaustion, pain and fear as she struggled weakly to push herself off the ground.

She gave up quickly, collapsing to the pavement in exhaustion and he gently rolled her over onto her back. Her hair was covering her face but he could tell by her clothes and tattoos that she and the car up the highway were two peas in a pod. Neither of them belonged here.

He grabbed his cell phone off his hip, not wanting to leave her even long enough to get the radio from his vehicle. Hitting speed dial he barely waited for the greeting before he was barking orders into the phone, not raising his voice to match his level of concern for fear it would further traumatize the girl.

His tone, however, left no room for misinterpretation.

"Emergency this is Lieutenant Esteridge with the New Mexico State Police, I'm in the vicinity of mile marker 1062 on Route 285 and I need a medic down here _right the hell now_...I've got 10-53 Caucasian female, early twenties with a head wound and possible concussion...showing outward signs of confusion and shock..." Pressing his phone to his ear with his shoulder he began checking over her injuries, listing them off with that southern twang as he came across them.

She tried weakly to push his hands away but it was no use. His words were slowly getting through to her and 'confusion' was putting it mildly. _Where was she? How did she get there? Who the hell was pawing at her now? A __**cop**__? Oh Lord..._

He pinched the skin on the back of her hand and watched it slowly return to its original position after he'd released it. "...severely dehydrated and possibly suffering from heat exhaustion...deep lacerations to the neck and shoulder...oohh...and possible broken ribs. _Sorry, honey_..." He added softly watching her wince and whimper at his touch.

He lifted her blood soaked shirt away from the area revealing a vicious looking bruise spreading across her stomach. "Fuck...and possible internal bleeding...get that bus rolling right now...understood?"

BadGirl was finally coming out of the fog that seemed to have settled over her mind and cringed at the big deal he was making out of her injuries. She gave herself a mental shake as her senses finally cleared. The ground was so hot beneath her that she felt like a piece of bacon in a frying pan, she needed to stand, somehow...

"Whoa there, chief...tone it down a notch. I'm not that messed up..." Came her soft voice and his eyes widened.

Esteridge's jaw hung open as the girl he'd pegged for dead just a moment earlier sat up, pushing the blood-slicked hair away from her face and staring up at him once she managed to open those startling eyes. It was like watching road-kill get up and walk away.

The sun was setting behind him and all she could make out was the silhouette of that cowboy hat and square jaw, coming to the conclusion that despite feeling like she'd been hit by a truck..._and in actuality, she almost had been_...she must still be alive. A sight like him in the afterlife would certainly be reserved for heaven and she had a pretty good idea that wasn't where she was headed.

"Honey, you've gotta stay still...your stomach..." He began, closing his cell phone and letting it fall to the road beside him, reaching out and putting a hand on each of her biceps in an attempt to gently urge her to stay in place.

She sighed at his concern and held onto his forearms, using him as an unwilling means of pulling herself to her feet.

"My stomach..." She began, groaning as she slowly stood upright on shaky legs and he followed suit, keeping a hold on her arms in case she collapsed. "...Got a size 13 steel-toe planted into it..." Her little fingertips were sinking into his forearms and he knew she was in a lot of pain. "Same with my ribs...and while it hurts like a son of a bitch, and yeah, you're probably right about a few busted ribs, I doubt I've got any internal bleeding."

She reached up to the side of her head and hissed, instantly recoiling in pain when her fingertips grazed the knot resulting from the butt of the pistol. "And alright, I'll even give you points for the 'possible concussion' observation out of the kindness of my heart."

Esteridge couldn't begin to hide the shock on his face that she was not only alive, but in good enough condition to be a smart ass. "Who did this to you? What happened?" He asked, trying to gather his thoughts.

BadGirl held onto him with one hand as she turned and slowly made her way to the side of his SUV, thankful that he followed her and kept her from falling over. She leaned back against the side of it, sitting on the narrow running-board and struggling to catch her breath at such a seemingly small movement. In her exhaustion it felt like she'd just ran a marathon.

She let her head roll from side to side against the door, groaning and closing her eyes. "Fuck, why is it always _so hot_ here? Who the hell would want to _live_ here?" She whined and he stared down at her in confusion, just about to open his mouth to repeat his questions when she continued in a frustrated tone without opening her eyes. "I_ heard_ you, po-po."

He flinched slightly, unsure if he should be offended by the unfamiliar slang; but she hadn't said 'pig' so he assumed it wasn't meant in a derogatory way.

Her eyes opened slowly and she arched a brow seeing him in the light for the first time. He was beyond attractive, those crystal blue eyes looking down at her swirling intensely with emotion, the light of the setting sun glittering off his blond hair where it was visible beneath his hat. Parts of her body began quivering their insistence that she was most certainly still alive and doing well.

"Look, I understand that it's important but if you don't mind I already know I'll be spending the next few days answering that same question a hundred times and I'm _really_ fucking tired. I don't know who he is, I don't know where he went, he wasn't driving a car or anything so I can't give you that to go on...shy of you miraculously being 5-0 _and_ a sketch artist I can't help you find him right now."

He didn't want to ask the next question since she'd pretty much just made it clear that she wasn't going to talk about it right then, but he needed to know if a rape kit was in order ahead of time.

"Did he...?" He began, and her eyebrow nearly reaching her hairline in response silenced him.

"_**No**_...he _**didn't**_." She said shortly, really not wanting to get into it with him at that moment. She knew it was going to come up eventually that she'd had to play tonsil hockey with a murderer in order to save her life but was currently in no mood for it.

Esteridge sighed and nodded in understanding, his eyes searching the stretch of road in either direction for an ambulance but finding none.

She groaned in pain and he looked down to find her reaching inside her boot, pulling out a pack of Marlboro's and shaking one up into her mouth. She whined realizing how far down her lighter had slid and looked up at him hopefully. "You got a light, po-po?" She asked and he slowly arched his brow at her.

"The name...is Esteridge...as in _'Lieutenant_ Esteridge'." He replied with a mock stern expression. BadGirl made an ooohhh noise, waving her hands as if she was impressed and he tried not to laugh. "And no, I don't smoke. Those things'll kill you." He said and she snorted a laugh.

"Yeah, well I hate to break it to you, blue eyes...I'm sorry_...Lieutenant_ blue eyes..._"_ she began with the cigarette pressed between her lips, "but apparently taking a drive in your fucked up state will do that, too."

Esteridge chewed the inside of his cheek as the corners of his mouth turned in a smile. She leaned forward with a lot of groaning and managed to pull her lighter up from the depths of her boot, lighting the cigarette and sighing in relief as she took several drags

"Sweet blessed nicotine, how I have missed you..." She mused. "I'm Alisha, by the way..." She said as she flicked her cigarette and he nodded.

"Yeah, I know..." He said softly and she looked up at him in confusion. "We found your car about 24 miles back and ran the plates, we were out here looking for you..."

"24 mi-- but why...?" Alisha began but trailed off, taking a drag to steady her nerves as another thought took precedence. "He was going to kill me but...but then he didn't...he knocked me out...changed his mind for some reason...why would he bring me this far?..._How_ did he bring me this far?" She played out the events that she could remember and her jaw slowly dropped open feeling something pressing against the side of her calf that shouldn't be there.

"My knife..." She breathed and he watched her blindly reaching down to her right boot, pulling the material away from her leg slightly revealing the handle of the concealed weapon as her eyes glazed over in memory. Her brows drew together, such a look of confusion on her face that it startled him.

"What's wrong?" He asked, crouching down in front of her in case she was getting ready to pass out or something.

"I didn't put it back..." She looked at him with concern evident in her features. "Why would he put my knife back?" She was breathing quickly, her eyes burning into him questioningly and he blinked several times, understanding what she was saying.

"Don't touch it." He warned, standing and retrieving gloves and a bag from his backseat. She watched him pull the blood soaked blade from her boot and retched seeing the bits of scalp and hair clinging to it.

"Oh God...I didn't cut his head, Esteridge...I didn't cut his head! Oh _fuck_, who did he use that on?" Her voice was reaching a shrill tone as her mind raced on, filling in the blanks.

Her eyes were welling up and she looked down at herself for the first time, sobbing at what she found there. "This isn't my blood...fuck me..._this isn't my blood!_" She screamed and he put his hands on her shoulders as she started to lose it.

"Calm down...hey, look at me..." He tried but she was hysterical now, staring down at the blood that covered her skin, understanding it had been the cause for his original assumption that she was at death's door.

She hadn't shed a single tear in the face of her own death, but the knowledge that some innocent person had been hacked up with her close enough to become slick with their blood was too much to take.

Her breathing reached frantic levels as she sobbed, unable to look away from the sight of her flesh and she shoved away from him, crawling toward the side of the road despite the agony it caused. Esteridge followed her, his hands on her sides trying to gently offer support without pressing on the bruised area, holding her hair back as she emptied the contents of her stomach. Apparently it had been nothing more than water. He sighed in frustration, her blood sugar level was probably bottoming out on top of everything else.

She was shaking uncontrollably when she finished, sweat covering every inch of her and somehow he found himself sitting on the asphalt with her draped across his lap. He stared down at her, feeling her blood-slicked brow and clenching his jaw. She was cool to the touch now, slipping into shock and he damned the ambulance for taking so long.

"Alisha..." He said softly, but she was lost in her own little world, staring at the front of his shirt with sad, distant eyes.

He understood that she was suffering a break at this point, the sassy Philly chick of a moment earlier was disappearing behind some wall within her mind. He needed to keep her talking before she decided to stay hidden for the unforeseeable future.

"So tell me...what's a pretty little thing like you doing wandering around in my desert, any way?" He asked, and watched her brows draw together in confusion as her eyes remained on his shirt.

_What the hell was that?_

She blinked.

Was he _flirting_ with her? Po-pos don't _flirt_...she looked up to his face slowly...and they especially don't flirt with that devastating southern draw, that smile like a mouth full of diamonds, those striking blue eyes, that hat that screamed 'ride me, I'm a cowboy'...

His smile widened and her body reiterated its earlier claim that she was most definitely still healthy enough to rope him in.

She hadn't even realized she'd crawled into his lap until that second, had been so intent on collapsing somewhere and he'd seemed like such a wonderful alternative to the hot asphalt. His arms were wrapped around her protectively and it made her heart flutter. Part of her felt bad for seeking out comfort from him when she was so covered in...

_Ooookay, let's not go there_...she chided herself feeling another wave of nausea coming on and locked her eyes on the buttons of his shirt again trying to calm her stomach.

"Vacation...had a month accrued and decided to wander aimlessly..." She said through clenched teeth, thankful for the distraction he was providing from what had just happened.

"And you're a mechanic?" He asked with a thoroughly intrigued smirk, his amusement clear in his voice.

She arched a brow and looked up at him curiously. "Yeah...why?" She said slowly.

He reached down and took one her hands in his, inspecting it and smiling as her body relaxed against him. "Just hard to imagine these adorable little hands of yours turning a wrench, is all."

What was it about a man making her feel so small that drove her so completely wild?

If it weren't for the blood on her face he would have seen that she was actually blushing. She didn't know she was even able to...she decided quickly that it must be something caused by her head wound.

"Well..."

_Oh hell, had he rendered her speechless, too?_

She forced herself to continue. "It's true, anyway. Been doing it since I was 17."

_That was it? That was all she could come up with? No witty retort? No clever comeback that would make him stammer? _She must be really exhausted...she didn't get this way with men.

But then again they didn't make men like this in Philly, that was for damned sure.

A siren in the distance made him sigh in relief and she wondered for a moment if he was anxious to be rid of the blood-spattered damsel in his lap. The look in his eyes when they locked with hers was something different, however.

"Good, the medics can put you back together again and then we'll see what you look like all cleaned up." He teased and she smiled up at him, letting her head rest on his arm again.

"I'm gonna need clothes from my car..." She said aloud, more to herself than him but he answered anyway.

"I'll have your things sent to the station, it's not far from the hospital so just let me know what you want and I'll bring it over." He offered and was relieved to see the mischievous smile from her photo album spread across her lips.

Before she could even share the wicked inner workings of her mind the ambulance was sliding to a stop and still blaring on that god forsaken horn...as if there was someone in the area other than them who needed to be warned of their arrival.

She barely had time to protest or ask him to come with her before she was being planted on a stretcher and loaded into the back, watching him where he stood outside the still opened doors with pleading eyes as they put a mask on her and cut away her top with those damnable EMT shears. And she'd really loved that top, too...those bastards. If they went for the bra she might have to start swinging.

Esteridge flinched slightly at the sudden expanse of her skin being displayed, and it was only partly because he felt it was improper for him to be seeing after all but telling her he was interested. Mainly, however, his shock was because as the clothing was removed he was able to see more injuries than she'd let on to having.

The medic shot him a meaningful look, swabbing the blood that was coating her in different areas with DNA testers, jotting notes on them regarding where they'd been collected from and sealing them before handing them over to him. The blood was, after all, evidence. He nodded in appreciation and let his eyes wander back to the ones that were still locked on him.

With a hiss and whine from BadGirl the medics were spraying some horribly cold liquid on her skin and trying their best to clear away enough blood to see her abdomen. A muffled, "Ow! What the fuck? Easy!" came from beneath the mask as one of them began feeling her ribs to see how damaged they were and Esteridge fought not to let a smile form on his lips. It wasn't funny by any means, but hearing her feisty, sworn indignation when she should have just been crying in pain was slightly amusing. She was glaring at the medics as if considering whether or not a brawl was in order and he shook his head.

"Oohh, hello...would you look at that...hey, Lieutenant we're gonna have full dental on the attacker..." The dark haired younger medic, Irving, said as he cleaned her shoulder and Esteridge climbed up into the ambulance to take a look for himself.

BadGirl pulled the mask off, glaring over at Irving. "Hey, you mind keeping your fingers **out** of the bite mark? Just a suggestion." Her pain was making her extremely cranky now, but one of those thick, powerful hands of his wrapped around one of her own and gave a squeeze of reassurance. When she looked up into his eyes he was giving her a weak smile, but she could see the tinges of sadness swirling in the blue.

The female medic, Crawford...her first name eluded his memory, arched a brow and leaned closer to BadGirl, motioning for the men to beat it for a minute.

"Hold up! Don't you two move another freaking inch." BadGirl snapped in aggravation when they turned to give her some privacy. "The answer is NO, alright? **No** before you even ask. I don't need some sisterly bonding **crap** to get me to magically remember something that didn't happen. He didn't rape me; I doubt he'd be able to follow through even if he tried..." She began.

Esteridge's brows drew together in confusion, asking her to explain without saying a word.

BadGirl threw her hands up in defeat. "He's a psycho, okay? Like loony toons, coo-coo-for-cocoa-puffs, lunchbox-toting, a little-too-close-to-his-Mama type CRAZY. He..." She stopped, her eyes flashing to Esteridge again before she let out a growl of frustration that she had to go into it.

Damn it, why did he have to be a cop? She wasn't going to be able to keep any of it from him.

Her voice quieted, like someone flipping a switch and he knew she really didn't want to say whatever it was that she had to. "He had me pinned up against the car, that was when he bit my shoulder...I don't know for sure but I think he was mad that I wouldn't cry..."

Esteridge's jaw flexed, his eyes filled with sympathy and she had to look away from the sight, staring down at her hands and forcing herself to continue.

"He asked me my name, had asked for it before it all started but I still refused to tell him...so he decked me in the face...when I slumped forward onto him trying not to pass out he got all weird...like having me touching him other than to fight him was freaking him out..."

She took a deep breath, keeping her eyes locked on her fingertips so she wouldn't see whatever reaction was going to pass over the Lieutenant's face. "So I did what I had to do. I came onto him...put on a good show that I was into it...that I wasn't afraid of him and was willing to..." She sighed, cutting that sentence short. "And it worked, okay? He didn't know what to do. He threw me on the ground to get away from me and it gave me the opportunity to keep fighting..."

An awkward silence settled over the group and she shook her head, closing her eyes and laying back on the stretcher, deciding she was done talking for a while.

Esteridge watched her for a moment, knowing that anything he said at that point wouldn't help, she was shutting down.

"We gotta get rolling, she needs scans on that head wound and x-rays to see how extensive the breaks are." Irving said quietly, feeling just as bad for this girl as the other two in that moment.

"I'll follow you..." Esteridge said, and watched Irving climb out and close the doors behind him; both of them in stoic silence as they climbed into their respective vehicles and started the journey to the hospital.


	3. John's Heart Shaped Box

**Rated:** **NC-17  
**

* * *

**_ERASE & REWIND...VERSION 2, PART 3_**

**_"JOHN'S HEART-SHAPED BOX"_**

* * *

__

She had no idea what time it was, what day it was...had finally succumb to the exhaustion and dehydration about halfway to the hospital and now it felt like the world was on wheels.

For a long time her sleep was without dream, just silent nothingness allowing her to recover some of her strength.

_But then he was there._

_Staying to the edges of the room he watched her as she slept, unsure of approaching her at first._

_His hands were covered in fresh blood, and he'd even forsaken his wedding ring at this point feeling it was inappropriate given his new commitment._

_Slowly he moved toward her sleeping form, his breath catching in his throat to be so close to her again. He loved that she was so hard to get to now, that he had to earn it...to work through the outsiders that weaved a web around her. Their game was going well. It was like catch and release - only to catch again...each time his excitement would grow._

_He moved to the side of the bed, stopping short of touching her face, noting the blood on his hands and wiping them off on his coat before reaching for her again, smiling as his hand made contact with her still bruised cheek._

_She sighed in her sleep, leaning into his touch and he nearly wept at it._

_So close now..._

_He climbed onto the bed slowly, careful not to wake her until he was ready. With his hands on the sides of her face he leaned down and let his lips brush across hers, backing away so that he could enjoy the surprise on her face._

_She opened her eyes, finding him lying above her in the hospital bed. Terror raced through her body and she took a breath to scream for help, but it was no use._

_He covered her mouth as he pinned her in place, looking down at her in that twisted adoration again._

_"You can help me..." He whispered, nodding to her as if she should understand this._

* * *

With a gasp she was sitting up straight in the bed, instantly cursing as the IVs in her arms were pulled painfully.

"Shh...it's alright, you're in the hospital...you're safe..." Someone was saying, and she opened her sleepy eyes to find a chest in front of her.

He had his hands on her biceps again, urging her gently to lay back in the bed and she did so slowly, surprised to find that he was still hanging around.

He took a seat in the chair that had been dragged along side the bed and squeezed her hand. "Nightmare?" He asked and she stared at him in disbelief taking in the files and paperwork he'd brought to complete while she was sleeping.

What kind of po-po was he, anyway? She let her eyes wander over to the window, it was dark outside and according to the clock on the wall it was 2:00.

"Why are you here?" She asked groggily as she turned to him and he smiled. The question had been asked honestly - it wasn't meant to be a hint to get lost.

"Still waiting to see if you clean up alright." He teased and she laughed softly, resting her aching head against the pillow.

"He said something strange..." She began, her eyes closing as sleep threatened to take her again and Esteridge most definitely didn't have to ask who she was talking about. "He said I 'could help him'...but I don't know what he meant..."

He watched her body slowly going limp, her hand in his relaxing completely and knew the pain meds were doing their job. She'd been asleep for more than 24 hours now and he had no intention of her waking up alone. With a sigh he let go of her hand and returned to the report in his lap, jotting down a note about the attacker's cryptic words.

Morning came and despite his reluctance to leave her side Esteridge was called down to the morgue to hear the findings of the autopsy on their John Doe. He placed two of the officers who were at the hospital on her door and grudgingly left to see the coroner. The victim's face was beyond any hope of recognition even if they had someone to ID the body and he tensed realizing that the animal responsible had come so close to doing this to Alisha first.

The blood that had covered her and that on her knife were a match for Doe's DNA but they'd been unable to lift a single print from its handle.

Everything about the situation didn't sit right with him but he kept his thoughts to himself, eager to get the facts and return to her room, his stomach was in knots for some reason and he always trusted his gut.

The elevator doors opened at her floor and his jaw hung open finding one of the officers he'd stationed as a guard standing at the front counter flirting with a nurse. He snatched the man's arm in passing, dragging him away and out of earshot before speaking. "Who is watching the room if you're over here?" He asked, his voice strained with rage.

The officer stared at him fearfully, he'd never contemplated getting caught leaving his post. "Um...Daniels?" He said, unsure if the other officer was still in position but silently praying that he was.

Esteridge released his arm and stalked away, his anger flaring anew when he turned the corner and found the chairs outside her room empty. Their only witness and she'd been left alone so that two idiot officers could chase tail? Oh yeah, somebody was getting suspended for this.

She was fine though, it was a busy hospital in broad daylight, surely the attacker would be smart enough to stay clear...he tried to convince himself as he approached her room.

Taking a deep breath and letting his hand hover above his pistol he turned the handle of her door, relieved to find her alone inside, still sleeping peacefully.

He sighed and entered the room, just reaching out for her hand when she rolled her head to the side, turning her face toward him in her sleep.

His blood ran cold.

On her left cheek a crude heart had been drawn with a fingertip - and he was damned sure it wasn't done in red paint.

Part of him wanted to wake her and ask if she was alright, to have the nurses check her from head to toe for any injuries...but the other part needed to find the sick fuck who might still be on the hospital grounds. He exited the room quickly, shouting to the officers to lock down the hospital before grabbing his radio and calling dispatch to send in backup.

He grabbed a DNA swab from the nurse's station and a camera they kept for evidence collection and raced back to her room, closing the door and locking it, releasing the strap of his holster and pealing off his jacket in case a confrontation was coming.

His hands were shaking as he tried to get a picture of the heart on her face, it took a moment to get one that wasn't blurred.

This bastard had walked right into the hospital, right through her door and had been standing in the exact place he was now while she slept. The thought disturbed the hell out of him.

He tried not to wake her as he took a sample of the blood or to wonder who it belonged to since, much to his displeasure, he found that it was still warm.

The top of the test kit had just been snapped shut when the phone at her bedside rang and he watched her slowly opening her eyes. She smiled up at him, momentarily distracting him from the fact that they hadn't given out the number for her line.

With a hint of pain in his eyes he reached for the phone, taking a breath and lifting the receiver to his ear.

He didn't say a word, just listened to the breathing on the other end for a few seconds. "Esteridge, is it?" Came the rough voice and his heart sank. Alisha's description of how insane this man was had been completely accurate - he was playing a game here.

"It is." Esteridge answered, ignoring the confusion with which she was now watching him.

"The men you left there..." He began, making a tisk-tisk noise. "...were a disappointment...one left his post the second a piece of ass walked by...but the other one? The other one was stupid enough to wander into her room while you were away..." The voice dropped to a dangerous tone. "...and I don't have to tell you what he had in mind, do I?"

Esteridge took a choppy breath, holding the phone away from his mouth so the killer wouldn't hear the effect those words had on him.

"You're right, they're a disgrace. So why don't you come on out and me and you can chat about it?" He said, his eyes betraying to Alisha that something was seriously wrong. She took in his lack of jacket, the gun ready in its holster, looked over to find the deadbolt on her door locked soundly and swallowed hard.

Esteridge silently prayed that she wouldn't notice the blood on her face until after he'd hung up the phone.

"Soon enough, Lieutenant...soon enough...but I've already done you a favor...you'll only have to worry about punishing one of your men, I took care of the other. He was so close to overstepping his boundaries...you should have seen how surprised he was when I caught him..." He smiled at memory, the officer had been so concerned with offering a lame reason for his hand starting to reach under the blanket that he didn't stop to wonder who the stranger in the room was. "Maybe you should be less concerned about me and more concerned about her safety when you leave her alone with them..."

"So you know _my_ name, what do I call you?" Esteridge interrupted with emotion straining his voice slightly, not wanting to picture someone taking advantage of her as she slept but wanting to keep the man talking as long as possible hoping they'd be able to trace the call.

"Ryder...you can call me John Ryder..." He breathed into the phone.

Esteridge's anger was threatening to get the better of him. "Well, _Ryder_, seeing as you're the reason she's in a hospital to begin with I'd say I've got a pretty good reason to want to keep you as far away as possible, wouldn't you agree?"

"A lovers' quarrel, nothing more...just ask her...ask her how she tried to find out my name so she would know what to scream...how she was _begging_ for it..." He smiled against the phone, all but hearing Esteridge's teeth grinding together at his words. "But enough about me - how is my girl doing? She's awake now..."

There was silence on the hospital end and he smiled contentedly, knowing he was right as he continued, leaning back in the seat of Esteridge's SUV and flipping through the contents of his glovebox. "I'm curious...are you planning to be stupid, too? She is, after all, _my_ girl...you aren't going to stop me from coming for her, or anyone who touches her - I think I've made that clear...and while some might say that I'm no prize, I'm sure if we asked _Lily_ she'd say the same of you...which reminds me, why _do you_ still wear the ring? I wear mine so people will think I'm trustworthy...but you...you wear it for different reasons...I wonder, will you take it off before you decide to do something stupid like make a move on my little blood-spattered girl?"

Esteridge's jaw fell open hearing his ex-wife's name, it only comforted him slightly that she was clear across the country and nowhere this freak could get a hold of her.

The fact that this psycho, 'Ryder', knew her name, his name, that up until the day prior he had still been wearing his wedding band **and** that he was interested in Alisha was the more pressing issue. He held the phone away from his mouth again, steadying his breathing before responding.

"That's not really any concern of yours, is it? You'll have a needle in your arm or a bullet between your eyes by then." He said through clenched teeth.

Ryder laughed cruelly. "_By then_? You speak as if you weren't cozying up on the side of the road with her just a few minutes after you'd met her...I bet if she hadn't been hurt you would have fucked her right there. Can't say that I blame you...she does look sexy in blood, doesn't she? But don't be stupid...I'd hate to have to kill you...at least sooner than I already intend to."

"So what's the plan, then?" Esteridge asked, fighting back his anger that this sicko had latched himself onto her and his concern at the revelation that Ryder had been watching that day.

He must have left her there like bait on the road, waiting to see what she would pick up. He shook his head picturing the stretch of road again in his mind. Ryder had left her squarely between two crime scenes intentionally, knowing that it wouldn't have been long before she was discovered.

"As you said, 'that's not really any concern of yours, is it?' You're just an insignificant pawn involved in something you have no control over. Just keep your men and yourself from getting too close...and maybe I'll make your death quick."

The phone went silent and Esteridge ran a hand over his face roughly, trying to steady his nerves before looking at her.

"Esteridge?" She asked in a shaky, small voice and he looked down to see fear in her striking eyes. She held a hand out to him and immediately he sat on the edge of the bed, lifting his arm and letting her hang on him for reassurance. He ran his fingers through her still-stiff hair, resting his chin on the top of her head and closing his eyes.

She hid her face under his jaw, more afraid than she wanted to admit...she didn't feel strong enough yet for Ryder to be coming back again, didn't think she could defend herself through another of his beatings.

Someone was banging on the door suddenly, and Esteridge heard the voices of several of his own men asking if they were alright. He was thankful to have some State Troopers present after what he'd seen from the local PD. He called over his shoulder that they were fine and looked down at her sad little face, slowly reaching over and grabbing a few tissues from her bedside table and dipping them in the water pitcher, urging her to stay still as he began wiping at her cheek.

He was thankful that he managed to get at least the majority of it off of her before she spotted the red on the tissues and snatched his hand fearfully, looking down at the blood as her eyes widened.

"What is...Who...Did he--?...How..._Here?..._" Her breathing was growing faster again and he watched her with sad eyes as she pieced it together. It was something about her that he was quickly becoming very fond of; her ability to figure things out that he really didn't want to put words to.

"It's okay...you're safe now..." He whispered, and felt he deserved every bit of the anger those words invoked.

"Safe? _**SAFE??**_ How the hell do you figure I'm safe? That sick freak was in here while I was sleeping and where the hell were the 5-0 then? HUH? Where were _YOU_?" She asked as her eyes began to fill up with tears and he felt a wave of guilt crashing down on him.

"I just...I had to...I thought it would be..." None of it mattered, it wasn't going to stem the pain that was seering through him knowing that she'd trusted him to keep her safe while she rested only to find that she had been left to the hands of a murderer, the betrayal he found in her eyes was eating him alive.

"It will _never_ happen ag--" He tried again, staring at her intensely and shaking his head, but the lump in his throat was rising too fast now and he looked down at his hands as his features returned to sadness.

Words were failing him and without thinking he leaned forward, putting a hand on the side of her face and taking her mouth with his in a deep kiss.

Her eyes widened and instinctively fluttered closed, leaving her moaning softly at the warmth of his palm caressing her cheek as his sweet lips parted hers. Her body trembled as his tongue explored her mouth and she pulled the IVs from her arms discretely (knowing that he would protest if he saw her doing it) and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, letting her hands wander over the soft hair on the back of his head. She ignored the parts of her body that were screaming in pain at her stretching and lost herself in his touch.

He didn't understand why this girl, this entire situation, kept stirring such strong feelings in him; from shock to fear to attraction to sympathy to sorrow to amusement to protectiveness and back again... She was like a rollercoaster of emotion for him and he kissed her hungrily, deciding he was okay with that.

"Lieutenant Esteridge, please open the door, sir...we found another body..."

He felt her tremble for a different reason at those words and he broke their kiss to find that fear in her face again.

His intense blue eyes locked with hers. "I'm not leaving you any more..." Esteridge whispered and watched her bottom lip quiver. He smiled reassuringly and leaned down to her again, this time kissing her bottom lip and asking it with the touch to calm down.

She offered a weak smile in response and nodded. "I appreciate that...really...but it's probably safer for you if you do."

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. He didn't like hearing her talk like that and took her hand in his. "Trust me, darling. We're gonna get this guy, I just have to keep you safe until then. After that you and I are going to do a lot more of this..." He smiled and put his hand under her chin, kissing her and nearly causing her to melt into a little puddle as she sighed into his mouth.

"Deal?" He asked once he pulled his lips from hers and she nodded with her eyes still closed. Despite her injuries she was very seriously considering rolling him onto his back on the narrow hospital bed and having her way with him.

He hesitantly stood and walked to the door, unlocking it and not removing his hand from his gun until he saw that every face outside the door was familiar to him.

"The body...Officer Daniels?" He asked and several of the men nodded. He gritted his teeth, and while most assumed it was in anger that a fellow officer had been killed it was actually because a small part of him felt the bastard had earned it. "Where did you find him?" He asked, and had a feeling he wouldn't like the answer by the way the men shifted uncomfortably.

"In your vehicle, sir." Mahon replied and Esteridge looked up at the ceiling trying not to curse.

"Start going through security footage from the hospital and parking garage, maybe we'll get lucky and turn up a shot of this guy...but then again I've had the great displeasure of speaking to him and he's not dumb by any means, so let's not hold our breath. In the mean time get me a sketch artist up here to come up with a composite on this sicko, make sure they are screened thoroughly before they even get in the building. No one gets on this floor without my clearance until we're ready to move her to the station. Got it?"

He waited for the rounds of 'yes, sir' and closed the door again, returning to his seat at the edge of her bed.

"I'm sorry about that Officer..." She began, taking his hand in hers and assuming it was someone who'd lost their life in her protection.

Esteridge bit his lip. "Don't be..." He said softly and she looked at him curiously, but judging by the anger behind his eyes she decided not to press.


	4. Black and White

**Rated:** **NC-17**

**  
**

**

* * *

**

ERASE & REWIND...VERSION 2, PART 4

"BLACK AND WHITE"

* * *

**  
**  
She spent several hours with a meek looking man working on a composite sketch of Ryder, his posture made all the more humble by Esteridge 'screening' him before allowing him to come within twenty feet of her door.

After the intensive round of questioning they subjected the man to even _she_ was considering confessing to being Ryder in disguise. She had to hand it to her hunky Lieutenant, the man was damned good at his job.

Since she needed something to keep her occupied until the doctors said she could leave anyway she figured she could at least make sure they had a good image to go on. Her deeply descriptive vocabulary had finally become useful for something.

By the time it was finished and the artist turned the page to show her his work she knew it was as close to a photo as they could get, the way her heart lept to her throat just from looking at it told her it was his absolute likeness.

Esteridge had taken it and memorized every line of the face staring back at him, nodding and handing it to one of the "state-ees" or "leather-legs" (as Alisha kept referring to his men), telling them to get fliers made up and to circulate it to the press with a 'do not approach or try to apprehend, armed and extremely dangerous, notify police immediately' warning.

Once the artist left she sat in silence, staring out her window at the sky feeling completely useless as the room around her buzzed with activity. Since their Lieutenant seemed dead set that he wasn't leaving the witness alone after the initial fiasco the men had resigned themselves to set up her hospital room as their headquarters, much to the chagrin of the doctors and nurses.

All those people around her but she still felt completely alone.

She got the oddest sitting-duck sensation, like none of it would make a difference, like she was merely waiting for Ryder to decide what would happen next.

Her mind kept wandering back to her dream of him whenever she was left to silence, and while she would never_...ever..._say it aloud, something was stirring inside of her when she pictured his face.

She felt this strange sense of sympathy for him forming in the pit of her stomach and it disturbed the hell out of her. The way he looked at her like she was supposed to be his savior...his kindred spirit...was all at once terrifying and intriguing.

The brutal honesty of it was that she found herself becoming steadily more drawn to...more aroused by Ryder, and that scared her worse than the thought of him killing her.

The knowledge that at any moment he could come for her, no matter what stood in his way...the dream of him pinning her down in her bed...the twisted adoration that she found in his eyes...it was all growing on her.

On some level, however deep-seated and well hidden it was, she was rationalizing handing herself over to him freely. Surely it would spare a lot of lives...

She'd overheard Esteridge quietly going over what Ryder had said in their phone conversation and it gnawed at her insides. Ryder had irrevocably bound himself to her and the revelation of what the officer he'd killed had "allegedly" been up to severely blurred the lines between attacker and protector.

Flashes of his face twisted in the agonized pleasure that her touches inflicted on him plagued her like a waking dream. She could still hear his moans, taste his lips; it was like some dangerously addictive poison. The more she told herself to stop thinking about it the more vivid her recollections became. She could feel his stubble against her face, his callused hands wandering over her flesh trembling in ecstasy...hear his ragged breathing...

A hand on her shoulder caused her to jump and she turned to find those devastating blue eyes staring down at her, filled with such sympathy and understanding. She gave him a weak smile, her mind in an uproar at the sight of him.

Esteridge..._God_, sweet and warm Esteridge...

He was just so completely and utterly..._good_. The embodiment of what was right in the world, chivalrous and kind, a man who stood up for what was right and offered his unconditional support in her darkest hour. She was falling for him, and damned hard, too.

And how could she not? Just a touch of his hand and she felt like nothing could ever harm her...but she knew that was a naive hope. He was smart as a whip and well equipped to handle threats, but he wasn't bulletproof. He was still a man, soft and warm and wholly breakable should he choose to stand between her and the one who now claimed her as their own.

Pain tore through her heart at the idea of him suffering or losing his life to try and protect her from what was, in his mind, evil...black and white, plain and simple. Her chest ached that it now felt much more complicated than that for her.

If she went right then and found Ryder, helped him in whatever way he was seeking then nothing would happen to this brutally handsome man who had taken such an interest in her. Esteridge would feel betrayed, and rightfully so, but at least he would be alive to feel it.

The thought immediately invoked a tidal wave of guilt as she stared up into those crystal blue eyes. How could she find herself deserving of Esteridge's affections when she was having such feelings and thoughts regarding Ryder? The things she was considering went against everything he stood for. Her stomach twisted in disgust for herself and she turned away from him and back toward the window, not wanting him to see her face, not wanting to see his.

Esteridge watched the steady current of emotion that had been swirling behind the mask of her face and knew she had a hell of a lot on her plate. Not like he had any illusions going into this that it would be easy, it's what he got for falling for a girl just entering post traumatic stress, hell maybe even a touch of Stockholm syndrome.

He sighed as she turned away from him, staying in that tormented silence she kept falling into. If they were alone he could say so much to make her feel better, hold her and tell her that all of the thoughts swirling in her head were normal, but since Ryder's unannounced visit things had been chaotic.

He'd tried to suggest that she contact her family but she had refused, saying that it would be far too difficult to explain and she'd rather wait until it was over so they wouldn't worry for her. She'd added with a distant smile that they'd likely have a plane full of men resembling a pro football team land within a few hours and she doubted the police would appreciate their presence, choosing not to voice the fact that she didn't want them coming because she didn't want them to die.

She'd had to give her statement of everything that had happened from the hours leading up to her encounter with Ryder until Esteridge had found her, and then had to reiterate over and over to the stone-faced man interviewing her that no, she hadn't seen or spoken to Ryder when he'd been at the hospital.

Esteridge had thought he was doing her a favor by asking his second to take her statement, figuring she wouldn't want to lay out the graphic details for him...and he had to admit he wasn't sure if he could stand hearing her describe the violent attack while staring up at him with those tear-filled blue and yellow eyes of hers.

But Sergeant Brooks gave her the creeps to say the very least. He was eyeing her skeptically, as if every word that came from her mouth was a lie. His distrust for her stoked the flames of her own distrust of police in general and after he had left and Esteridge had caught a few moments alone with her she'd tried to voice her concerns to him.

"I don't like him..." She whispered, her eyes pleading with him to back her up on this.

Esteridge's brow furrowed. "Darling, I've known Sergeant Brooks for close to twenty years...he's a good man." He began in a reassuring tone and watched her jaw flex in frustration. He let out a sigh, chalking her suspicions up to uneasiness around strange men as a result of the attack. "You don't have to worry about him, sug'. That was the only part of this you'll have to deal with him for." He stole a kiss and while it made her stomach flip flop it did very little to quell her concerns.

"Fine...but I still don't trust him." She said in aggravation and he wished desperately that he had more time to distract her from the foul mood she was rapidly declining into.

The doctors came in soon after, saying that while she still had a long road to recovery she no longer needed to stay at the hospital. Alisha smirked knowingly that her arm could have been hanging off at that point and they still would have tried to rush her out the door. The police presence had completely disrupted the hospital and it was difficult to run an emergency room when every arriving patient needed to be screened by an officer before being allowed entry.

She felt like hell, knew she looked like hell and seeing her hardened expression Esteridge had reminded her that her belongings were at the station and she could get a real shower once they arrived. She smiled at that, the first one he'd seen from her all day as they made their way out to another state owned SUV that had been brought for his use.

He helped her into the passenger side knowing that, despite her insistence that she was fine, her entire body was still aching terribly. She wasn't taking her pain meds now that they couldn't put a direct line into her without her approval, and short of him forcing the pills down her throat he couldn't get her to budge on the subject. She told everyone that it didn't hurt that bad but he got the feeling she just didn't want to risk being caught off guard in a drug induced stupor. Not that he blamed her, the meds they'd been pumping into her at the hospital had been the reason she'd slept through Ryder's last visit.

He closed the door behind her, but as he made his way around the front to get in on the driver's side she saw her new friend Sergeant Brooks intercept him and rope him into a conversation.

She rolled her eyes and leaned back in her seat, glaring in response to every suspicious look the bastard cast in her direction. Whatever they were talking about was pissing Esteridge off, she could tell by the coloring in his face despite his relaxed expression, the way the muscle of his jaw twitched. She had a pretty good idea of what was being said and shook her head.

A tap on the window made her jump and she turned to see one of the younger officers opening her door.

"Excuse me, ma'am. Dispatch is putting through a call, said it's your father." He said as he handed her a cell phone and she sighed and thanked him, allowing him to close the door while she mapped out how the hell she was supposed to explain all this.

She cleared her throat, bringing the phone to her ear and offering a sweet, "Hey, Daddy..."

"Now that was even sexier than I could have hoped for..." Ryder's voice breathed and her heart dropped. "Say it one more time for me?"

Her eyes frantically tried to catch Esteridge's but he was distracted by that asshole Sergeant. She turned to the side, hoping to be able to flag down one of the other officers but the second she reached for the door handle Ryder continued.

"Ah ah ah...I wouldn't...I've got your friends in uniform in my scope _riiiiggghtt_ now and one wrong move is going to cost somebody their life."

Her bottom lip trembled at the thought, her eyes wandering out to Esteridge fearfully.

"Now don't get cute with me and start asking questions for the police, we both know this is a recorded line but I wanted to talk to you anyway. I just had to ask...do you miss me yet?" He breathed and she could hear the smile in his voice.

She gritted her teeth that he already knew she was thinking about him more than she should be.

"Not as much as you're missing me." She said softly, hoping to distract him from aiming at the unsuspecting police surrounding her.

Ryder laughed and moaned into the phone. "Mmm, but that wasn't a no..." He growled and she tried to pretend it wasn't turning her on.

Despite herself her eyes closed and she pressed the phone a little closer to her ear.

"Oh, you know you look _so fucking sexy_ like that..." He purred and she smiled knowing that he'd changed from aiming at the officers to watching her through his scope. She wasn't the least bit fearful that he would decide to shoot her, he was enjoying himself far too much. "Moan for me...like you did against the car..." He said and she squeezed her thighs together hearing his breathing quickening.

"What do I get out of it?" She teased and he laughed, loving that she was playing along with him.

"I let your new friend Esteridge live...for now..." He said in a dangerous tone and she refused to let her fear reach her face at hearing those words, knowing without a doubt that he was watching for a reaction.

"And the rest, too...I'm not going to play with you unless you let them all drive away safely." She reclined the seat a little, scooting up further so that wherever he was he'd be able to see her thighs and the way her hand was tracing over them provocatively.

By the way he breathed raggedly into the phone she knew it had worked. "Have it your way..." He said gruffly. "But what about that Sergeant? We don't like him, do we?" He asked and her jaw dropped open slightly.

"He's innocent..." She said softly and Ryder smiled.

"But I'm right, we don't like him...I see the way he's eyeing you...it would take just a tiny bit of pressure from this finger and he'd stop giving you those looks..." He whispered into her ear and she didn't say a word, unsure which path would save the man's life. "Alright, we'll get to him later, then. _Mmm...now do it for me_..." He pleaded and she smiled for him.

"I'm going to turn my face, you tell me when I'm looking at you..." She whispered and his face twisted in that agonized pleasure again as he pressed the phone harder against his ear.

"Right there..._hey, sexy_..." He whispered back.

So he was on the roof of the building across the street, she assumed the state-ees hadn't considered he'd resort to sniper rifles and hadn't secured the rooftops.

"_Mmm_...so are you gonna get off to me, Ryder?" She purred and his body trembled listening to her voice.

Her question caught him off guard, making him think about it for a second. He didn't know what he intended to gain from this, in all honesty. He'd just needed to hear her to hold him over a little while longer.

"Are you watching me, John?" She whispered and he growled in response. "Then just pretend that you're down here with me...cuz that's what I'm gonna do..."

He watched with labored breathing as her hands ran over her body, up through her hair, her head rolling to the side as she moaned and sighed his name. His entire body was sweating as he shook with need, if he wanted to he could pick off every one of those cops and catch her, drag her into the back of that SUV by her hair and...

God he was already close to cumming and she wasn't even there with him. His body was starving for more of the sensations she'd given him days earlier, needs that she'd awaken in him were now coursing through his veins like liquid fire.

She was increasing the pitch and volume of her moans for him, carrying him over the edge...

Movement caught his eye and he grudgingly zoomed out enough to see Esteridge and that idiot Sergeant approaching the vehicle.

"Lock the doors..." He choked out, his body tensing as he slid his hand down the front of his pants, stroking his throbbing hard-on and listening to the _'click'_ on her end of the line as she did what she was told. He had earned it, after all, it was only fair in his mind. If he was going to let them live than she had to keep her end of the deal. Esteridge and Brooks' voices were close now, and she slowed her moans to gauge where they were. "Fucking ignore them." John spat angrily and she knew he was right there.

"Cum for me, baby...I want to hear it...come on...close your eyes and give it to me..." She urged, moaning as if she was about to lose control right along with him. "Remember how you had me pinned? How I was begging you to fuck me? Cum, baby...that's it...come on..."

He growled into the phone and she damned near really did slip into her own orgasm at the sound. It was the most honest vocalization of ecstasy she'd ever heard come from a man, he wasn't trying to sound sexy or in control, he was letting go completely and she couldn't help the way her body trembled as a choppy moan escaped her lips, it wasn't even done for his benefit.

She sat up straight, smoothing her skirt and holding the phone to her ear, listening to his breathing as he worked through aftershocks and praying that he'd hurry up...

Nope, not fast enough.

Esteridge tried the door handle, leaning down and looking at her in confusion when he found it locked. She looked at him with stricken eyes and shook her head, showing him the cell phone.

"Mmm...that was delicious..." She purred for Ryder as he panted and moaned in her ear, watching as the younger officer who had brought her the phone was grilled by Esteridge. He shot her a look that told her he knew who she was talking to and grabbed a radio, undoubtedly calling dispatch to have them replay the conversation for him. It made her slightly nauseous to think he was about to hear her having phone sex with Ryder, but she had to make sure this ended according to their agreement.

"Did that feel good, baby?" She asked, and judging by the way Esteridge's eyes were suddenly scanning the rooftops she knew he was listening to the beginning of the phone call.

"It's gonna feel so much better when I get a hold of you..." He purred back, now completely decided that he would have her before the end.

"Are you gonna be a good boy and let us drive out of here? I want a shower and they're taking forever as it is...I won't be able to get one if you start shooting people..." She teased and he laughed.

"You kept your end...mmm...and _damned_ well, too...so I'll keep mine...but tell them I said to get out of there quick before I change my mind...that ought to hurry them up considerably." He said, watching her through the scope and biting his lip. It would be so easy to do it, to just take them out one by one and be alone with her.

"Goodbye, Ryder..." She said softly and his brows drew together painfully, his eyes saddening that the game was over for now.

"I'll see you in your dreams..." He breathed and she gritted her teeth knowing he was right as she hung up the phone.

She immediately unlocked the doors and raced out toward Esteridge, the look on his face as she approached plainly telling her that he was listening to the heated part of the conversation. "We have to go, _right now_. He said he's not going to shoot anyone and I don't want to stick around long enough for him to decide against it."

He was still staring at her though, a mix of shock and pain in his features. Her heart ached at what he must think of her in that moment but she had to get them out of there. "Esteridge?!" She said a bit shrilly and he nodded, keeping the phone to his ear as he started toward the SUV. "Everybody get driving - now!" She yelled, unsure of why they weren't moving until she realized they were waiting for Esteridge to give the order.

A warning shot rang out, clear and true, echoing off the buildings and it instantly snapped him back to reality, he grabbed her and screamed for everyone to get out of there, leading her to the vehicle and glaring up toward the rooftops defiantly before driving away.


	5. A Cold Shoulder and a Dark Cell

**Rated:** **NC-17**

* * *

**ERASE and REWIND...VERSION 2, PART 5**

**"A COLD SHOULDER AND A DARK CELL"**

* * *

To say that the drive to the station was uncomfortable would be a drastic understatement.

Firstly, of course, there was the fact that Esteridge had just listened to the pornographic conversation that had taken place between a murderer and the girl he was pursuing. Secondly, he'd sent a group of his men up to the rooftop to try and apprehend Ryder, and there hadn't been any survivors other than the man himself.

Esteridge's complexion was steadily turning some horrible variation of crimson and he wasn't even looking at her as he barked orders over the radio, demanded reports on what was going on and eventually asked for the death toll. He'd lost eight men in the blink of an eye and was no closer to catching Ryder than when he'd started.

Alisha was slowly shrinking lower in her seat, eying him like a ticking time bomb and hoping he wouldn't find out this early on that there was only one thing that could cut her like a knife. She could take a punch to the face or a kick to the ribs and walk away un-phased...but hurtful words coming from someone she cared about rendered her absolutely and completely heartbroken.

She tried to become one with the seat, to do everything in her power not to draw attention to herself knowing if he turned those once beautiful, now terrifying blue eyes on her and screamed disgust for her it would reduce her to tears.

What made it worse was she felt that she deserved it, part of her was rooting for him to dig in - to dish out the punishment befitting of her actions.

But as they drove she felt dread filling her stomach realizing that he had no intention of screaming at her because, quite frankly, he wasn't even acknowledging her existence.

They arrived at the station and the fact that she had to open her own door when exiting the vehicle, something that had been completely trivial up until that moment in her life, was duly noted.

She followed along with her head hung low in shame, listening to the voices of the dozens of men in the room as they argued over what the next course of action should be, laid out who would contact the victim's families and talked about how to take Ryder down. None of them really gave a shit at that point whether he lived through the arrest or not.

She didn't say a word when she overheard Sergeant Brooks asking to interview her again, offering some lame ass excuse that he hadn't gotten everything the first time. Esteridge's angry eyes had flashed over to her for a second and she was thankful she hadn't been looking up when they did, his nostrils were flaring in rage and he simply nodded his authorization to Brooks before being hit with another round of questions by the panic-stricken officers.

Esteridge was standing with his back was to her, and if he hadn't been she knew Brooks wouldn't have grabbed her arm quite so roughly when leading her down the hall to an interrogation room.

The next hour was everything she'd figured it would be. Her and Ryder's original distrust of the man had been well founded. He had no intention of getting a statement from a witness, he felt he was extracting a confession from a murderer.

The _evidence_ said...the _DNA_ said...his _gut_ said...so then it must be true.

She let herself daze out as he screamed at her, threatened her discretely and slammed his fists on the table in front of her angrily hoping to make her flinch.

She almost smiled. She'd stood up to Ryder, how intimidating did he expect her to find him?

Like the spineless bitch she knew he was he'd gone after her preexisting injuries, careful not to leave any new bruising that would get him caught.

The door had opened and while part of her had prayed to see Esteridge she should have known better. He had his hands full with eight dead state-ees, a media frenzy and his anger over what he'd heard in that conversation.

She just wanted a _fucking_ shower.

The officer who entered, a few of his buddies and the Sergeant led her downstairs to a cell roughly, pushing her inside aggressively and telling her it was where she belonged as they slammed the bars closed behind her.

Brooks spat at her face and she really did smile this time, loving that it made him falter for a second.

It was a self contented smile, a peaceful smile stemming from the knowledge that sooner or later Ryder was going to meet up with him and she had no intention of saving his life twice. Hell, she was so vengeful in that moment that she considered making it a top priority to mention Brooks' disrespect during her next discussion with Ryder, for there wasn't a doubt in her mind they'd be speaking again soon.

The men had left her alone in the basement of the station, shutting out the lights and leaving her to her thoughts.

They weren't pleasant company to keep.

On one hand there was the total guilt that she was even _slightly_ attracted to a killer, the pain of knowing that Esteridge had been so effected by hearing the game she'd played to save their lives...

On the other hand there was anger, that deep primal rage that always lurked beneath her surface. It was currently feeding on the fact that while she had played Ryder's game in an effort to keep him from killing these ungrateful bastards it had earned her a cold shoulder from the man who _'wasn't leaving her any more'_ and an equally cold, dark cell. Her ribs were aching terribly from being dragged around, manhandled and shoved, and it only lent to her bitterness. Despite herself she was thinking a lot about Ryder in that moment.

She sat alone in the dark for somewhere in the area of three hours before she heard the door open at the top of the stairs. The light switch was flipped on and she blinked trying to get accustomed to the fluorescent glow again.

Esteridge approached slowly, and she could see concern evident in his features. He opened the cell door and she didn't say a word, sure that by now he'd been fed some lame story for why she was down there in the first place.

"Head still hurt?" He asked skeptically and she fought the urge to roll her eyes.

_Yeah, whenever I get a headache I ask to be put in a dark cell in the basement._

She only grunted in response, looking down at the floor so he wouldn't see the disgust in her face.

"Things have calmed down a little if you want to come upstairs again..." He was watching for any hint of anger in her features, his gut telling him that he'd been lied to but he still didn't want to believe it. Several of his men had confirmed the claim that she had wanted to lay down and felt safer locked away where Ryder would have a hard time getting to her.

She stood and walked past him without saying a word. What good would it do? After all, Brooks was a _'good man'_...he must be, he'd known Esteridge for _'close to twenty years'_ and she was just some traumatized assault victim who was naturally going to be suspicious of strange men.

His jaw flexed as her distance only served to confirm his suspicions and he followed her up the stairs, the fact that she was walking a little slower and considerably favoring her ribs definitely did not go unnoticed.

When they reached his office and he saw her discretely taking a few of her pain pills he fought to keep his anger in check. The realization hit him that she'd weighed out her options and decided that being medicated with Ryder was worth the risk so long as she could deaden a little of the pain that had somehow began during her time in the interrogation room.

They'd barely said two words to each other before there was a knock at his door and he held his tongue seeing one of the officers who'd verified the headache story. "Sir, there's a reporter out here asking to speak with you and Sergeant Brooks wants to know if Alisha is feeling up to finishing their interview now."

Esteridge's eyes flew to her for any reaction, any hesitancy that he could read, but she was a blank page, her emotions locked up tight.

"Sure, why not." She said dryly as she lit a cigarette, not bothering to look back as she exited the office and made her way back to the interrogation room.

* * *

Nothing like a crisis to bring out the crooked cops.

She listened to their words and did her best not to give them any reaction to feed on. Her eyes wandered up to the clock on the wall and she realized that after only fifteen minutes in that room she'd been called every slanderous term a female could earn. The realization amused her, these clowns were going for a new record.

"You think you're gonna hide behind Esteridge until this all blows over?" Brooks asked and she ignored him, staring blankly ahead until he gripped her face and turned her to look at him. "He's not gonna protect you from a murder wrap, bitch. I don't care how good a fuck you are..." He said harshly, his face mere inches from hers.

"I'm not the one who's going to need protection..." She whispered as the yellow in her eyes all but clouded out the blue and he released his hold on her, more than a little freaked out by her changing eye color.

"What, slut? You planning on killing another innocent man?" He asked angrily and she smiled.

"Firstly, don't kid yourself that you fall under the category of innocent. Secondly, I won't have to lift a finger or bat an eyelash, your mouth and temper is gonna get you killed by Ryder before this is all said and done and just _knowing_ that makes me all warm inside." She said with a smile. Up until then she'd kept her mouth shut, but for some reason hearing him talk about Esteridge had lit her incredibly short fuse.

The Sergeant grabbed her by her shoulders and hauled her backward, the other officers in the room casting each other worried looks that he was going to far as her chair toppled to the floor.

He slammed her against the wall as he screamed in her face and every wound in her body hummed in pain from the impact. "What's that your other boyfriend, slut? You fuckin that freak, too?"

Her eyes closed as she struggled to steady her temper, it simply wouldn't do to put a Sergeant in the hospital, she'd just have to ride this out...but she was already so pissed off...

She glared up at him, making sure he was paying attention as she spoke. "_Ryder is gonna slit your fucking throat, pig_." She hissed in his face and tensed up, knowing the fist was coming before she'd even finished speaking.

Pain sung through her face with surprising intensity and it took her a moment to realize it was caused by the preexisting bruising from her fight with Ryder. Her eyes were closed as she struggled to get her bearings but she heard a loud noise, angry voices, felt the hands being ripped off of her and stood dazed and confused against the wall.

By the time she managed to get her eyes open she was worried that her wish had been granted, that just like that he'd shown up to kill Brooks.

But it wasn't Ryder who had the Sergeant pinned against the wall, it was _Esteridge_.

"That fucking bitch just confessed to murder! She's just as responsible as that freak for the dead officers today!" Brooks screamed and Esteridge's features relaxed slightly, but she could read his eyes and his coloring and knew what he was doing.

"Really? Is that what you heard?" He asked the officers in the room and one by one they nodded. "And you, Stevenson, is that what you heard, too?" He asked, waiting for the man to nod.

His features twisted anew with rage. "Come cuff these lying sacks of shit and lock'em up before I kill'em!" Esteridge screamed over his shoulder, and she was surprised by the sudden police presence in the room, all moving to cuff the bad eggs in the bunch.

She watched with wide eyes as they were led out, relieved to see they were getting the same manhandling that they'd dished out to her earlier.

Her eyes narrowed in on Esteridge as he started toward her, the pain radiating through her body was not the least bit forgiving.

"Oooohhh no..._You?_ You can go _FUCK_ yourself. I trusted you! I fucking _told_ you that I didn't like that guy from the get-go and you let him **do this** to me? You practically served me up on a silver platter to that freak! I'm better off on my own against Ryder, fuck I'm safer! And to think I actually felt _guilty_ about getting him off to save you bastards! Where is my shit, I'm outy!" She screamed, her face red as she gave him wide berth, trying to dodge his grasp.

He snatched her arms and she fought him for a second, but his grip was unwavering and she really couldn't find it in herself to hurt him.

His eyes were twice as striking in contrast to the enraged crimson of his complexion and he stared at her for a long moment before he could get himself to speak. "I can not...even begin...to tell you how sorry I am." He choked out, his eyes filling with tears they both knew he would never allow to fall as his voice strained past the lump in his throat. If he chewed the inside of his cheek any more she was sure he'd tunnel through. "This isn't exactly..." He began and she filled in the blanks.

This wasn't exactly easy for him. This wasn't exactly your run of the mill starter to a new relationship.

He had a psycho killer to contend with who seemed to get to her despite his efforts to keep her safe, and hearing her talking like that with the guy he was trying to protect her from had hurt more than it should have. He wasn't a rookie, he understood that she was up against a lot of confusing emotions where Ryder was concerned, especially with him now offering his services as her own personal henchman.

But knowing that it was to be expected didn't make it any easier on his end. Then to lose that many of his men...most of them guys he'd known the majority of his life...and to have to deal with that grief on top of Ryder using her like some phone sex operator had thrown him off his game.

So yeah, he'd been royally pissed off, had figured his judgment of Brooks' character was better than that of Alisha...or Ryder, for that matter, since he seemed to have known something was wrong, too...and had used leaving her alone with him as a punishment for the pain that was cutting into him, figuring at the very most she'd have been uncomfortable through the interview.

In retrospect? _Probably_ not his best move.

He'd acted out of spitefulness and it had gotten her hurt. Now came the part of figuring out how to make her understand all that, plus how sorry he felt for it.

But she'd been reading his eyes as he dropped into silence, and that trait she had of figuring things out on her own helped him yet again. He was surprised when she reached up to the back of his neck and urged him to lean down so she could kiss him, since the current throbbing in her ribs wouldn't allow her to do any stretching.

She watched his sad eyes close as he kissed her desperately, pleading for forgiveness without saying a word. She returned his kiss sweetly, tracing her fingers along his jaw-line and replying with her touch that she understood completely and forgave him everything.

When they parted she nuzzled her forehead against his, smiling before whispering. "Can I _please_, for the love of all that is holy, get a shower now?"

ERASE & REWIND...VERSION 2, PART 5


	6. Butterfly Caught

**Rated:** **NC-17**

**

* * *

**

ERASE & REWIND...VERSION 2, PART 6

"BUTTERFLY CAUGHT"

* * *

She put on her best tough girl act as she followed Esteridge back to his office, pretending that her body wasn't screaming in pain with every movement she made. The pills were doing little to help but she couldn't convince herself to take any more of them - she needed to stay alert. _He was coming..._

It was like watching sands run through an hour glass, the longer she went without seeing or hearing from Ryder the closer she came to his next visit.

Esteridge's phone was ringing as they entered and she motioned for him to go ahead and answer it. She approached the bags that had been brought from her car to dig out her shower supplies and laughed seeing the smirk on his face when she sat her 'Dumb Blonde' shampoo and conditioner on his desk.

The momentary relief of it faded as the conversation he was having turned to the matter of the fallen officers. He turned away from her and lowered his voice and her chest ached for him, as well as the families who would have one less place to set at dinner from now on.

She steeled herself, _this _was why she was able to find Ryder attractive - she hadn't seen what he was capable of first hand, despite knowing it. His murders were there in the background for her, not up-close and personal...at least not when she was conscious to witness them. With her jaw flexing she reached for the folders sitting in the middle of Esteridge's desk...all eight of them.

She _had _to do this. She _had _to make herself see...to make herself understand...

The photographs that were enclosed within that harmless looking manila paper shattered her sanity.

Her legs grew weak and she had to sit down before she passed out. All of the officers had died excruciating deaths in those moments when she'd been safe inside Esteridge's SUV, heading away from the danger as the men had headed toward it. It seemed the first to die were shot for Ryder's amusement - in the lungs, the throat...places where the death wouldn't be immediate. The rest were more..._personal..._she shuddered knowing this was the way he preferred to take lives.

She turned the pages of the reports with trembling hands, unblinkingly consuming images of throats slashed so deeply they were nearly decapitations, gouged out eyes and severed limbs...faces beaten beyond any recognition...and _blood_...so much blood that the roof had been pooled with it judging by the photographs.

He'd taken his time with them, a few strung up with cable from the flagpoles of the hospital roof and tossed over the side; left to dangle like some sick testament to his ability for the officers who arrived after the carnage.

Esteridge had been staring out the window, keeping his answers vague in hopes of shielding her from how gruesome things had gotten, only to turn around and find her flipping through glossy 8x10s of things even hardened detectives had difficulty stomaching.

"_Honey, __**don't**__..._" He began with panic in his tone, muttering a quick, "I gotta go" into the phone before hanging it up and quickly crossing the room to reach her.

She barely noticed when the folders were pulled from her grasp, replaced by his hands as he tried to get her to look up at him. But the images were there now, just as she'd wanted them to be. Every time she closed her eyes she could see the extent of Ryder's madness...and to her great horror it still didn't make her repulsed by him...still didn't shake the sympathy she felt for him.

These weren't murders committed out of passion, they were committed in the _pursuit _of it.

He just kept upping the ante. More violence, more blood, more pain waiting for something to make him _**feel**_. But as much as she could see him, understand him, she knew the rest of the world was a mystery in his eyes. Her capacity to care, to fear, to love, to hurt...he was drawn to it like a moth to a flame and likely didn't know why.

Esteridge was talking to her, touching her face and speaking in that soft reassuring tone, his beautiful eyes swirling with pain for her. He drew her into his arms and she rested her head on his shoulder, staring out from the shell she'd withdrawn into and feeling a million miles away. The deeper she allowed herself to descend into Ryder's insanity the harder it became to keep her own, the scent of Esteridge's cologne, the warmth of his skin through his shirt were now distant sensations. She was becoming numb to the world around her and as he kissed her lips, her love for him swelling inside her hardening heart, she knew she would have to leave him.

Ryder would kill him as sure as the sun would rise. Jealousy might not even be a cause for it, and if it was he surely wouldn't understand it as his motivation. He knew she felt for this man despite everything that was going on around her and it intrigued him. He would want to learn it, to see it in all forms...to watch her pain over his death and be with her as she soared from the passion of grief to rage to vengeance.

She couldn't get herself to speak as they made their way to the locker room and shower of the station, Esteridge asking her repeatedly if she was sure she didn't want to just lay down. She would nod and keep walking, watching him set her things on the tiled floor once they arrived and tell her he'd be right outside the door if she needed him. He was extremely hesitant to leave her and she forced a weak smile for him, waiting for him to close the door to begin stripping away her clothes, letting them fall to the floor in a heap. It was a few moments standing nude in the center of the room before she could get herself to approach one of shower heads and turn it on.

The water pressure was good, but she found herself adjusting the temperature, knowing by the steam that it should feel hot enough...but it didn't.

By the time she gave up on turning the knobs the water was nearly scalding, the sensation of it a welcome relief to her in the absence of any other. She washed the remnants of blood from her hair and body that the hospital staff had been unable to sponge and wipe away, cleaning her body on memory of the thousands of showers before it on a sort of autopilot.

_He'd only had to kill a handful of men to get to the rear entrance of the showers, knew that Esteridge was close by and didn't want to raise the alarm just yet. He was saving that one, enjoyed that the man was so disturbed by his contact with Alisha and wanted to prolong it. _

_The steam in the room was thick, allowing him to approach completely undetected but once he found her he knew she wouldn't have noticed him anyway. She was standing under the water, her eyes staring blindly at the wall in front of her. _

_His heart was hammering in his chest as he watched the water cascading over her skin and he stayed longer than he assumed he should have enjoying the view. He knew there wasn't much time before he would be discovered. _

_She didn't fight as he pulled her against his chest, knowing it was him, leaning her head back on his shoulder as the scalding water rained down on them both. He let his hands wander over her skin with the water, down her hips and over her stomach, kissing her hair as his clothing became soaked and heavy, clinging to him...but it didn't matter. _

_He turned her to face him, letting his eyes wander down the front of her body before staring deeply into her gaze. She had such beautiful sad eyes, he'd never seen this emotion in her before and drank it in as she put her arms on his shoulders. _

_She lifted her chin to him, her eyes wandering to his lips and he couldn't help the way his brows drew together in confusion, her invitation once more disorienting him. He leaned down to her, following her lead as she kissed him in a way he didn't understand. _

_It wasn't a starved sexual contact, it was...something..._

_It was as if she was sharing her pain with him, gaining comfort from him in return. _

_Whatever you called this it was a connection he'd never experienced...he wanted more of it, and so did she. _

_Her pace was quickening, her breath matching his in fast bursts as they held on to one another. He moaned as her hands wandered over his wet hair, holding her closer to him as he tasted the tears streaming down her face. _

_He could __**feel**__ it, the aching in her chest, the lump in her throat...the exquisite sorrow that was swirling in those eyes as if it were his own. _

_She took her lips from him and he held her tight, afraid to let go and lose the sensations she was providing. _

_"You want me to end it. To kill you." She whispered, and he looked down at her in surprise, only able to nod for a long moment. _

_Finally he managed the question he needed to ask. "Why are you crying?" He whispered back. _

_She stared him straight in the eyes, baring her soul to him. _

_"Because I don't want you to die. Because I love you." _

Ryder came to consciousness with a jolt, looking wildly around the darkened interior of his latest victim's car as his breathing slowed. His eyes were wide as he came to terms with his dream and he ran a hand over his face, pressing it to his mouth and shaking his head. That simply wasn't how it would happen. He was sure of it.

He was so unaccustomed to the bewilderment she kept striking in him, his normally cold mind was the chaos of a million questions stemming from every contact he'd had with her. Why didn't she run? Why was she not afraid? Why did she look at him the way she did...speak to him the way she did?

The quick decision was made to go to her and find out.

* * *

Esteridge was torn between not wanting to overstep any boundaries and needing to check on her. The water was still running but she wasn't answering when he called. Part of him knew she was likely just lost in thought or unable to hear him over the shower, but the cold fear in the pit of his stomach drove him to venture inside anyway.

The room was so thick with steam that he could barely make out the silhouette of her in the distance. He approached slowly, seeing that she was sitting on the tiled floor with her knees drawn up to her chest.

Out of habit at this point his eyes scanned the room for any sign of Ryder, knowing better than to trust his own judgment of what was safe any more.

"Sweetie..." He said softly as he stopped about five feet away, sighing when it didn't earn so much as a flicker of her eyelids. He closed the remaining distance, shocked to find the water so hot that it was painful. Her skin was red from the abuse but still she sat there, letting it rain down on her. He did his best to ignore the feeling of her soaked, naked flesh and scooped her up in his arms, carrying her to the bench where her towels were resting. Slowly he eased her down to her feet, wrapping a towel around her before trying to bring her out of her shell.

"Alisha, honey...can you look at me, darlin'?" He asked, putting a hand under her chin and lifting her face. Her eyes were dazed and unseeing and he licked his lips as he smiled. "Alright, but if you don't come out of this I'm gonna have to take you to another hospital, and you remember the food there, don't you?" He teased, relieved to see her blink and focus on him for the first time since his arrival. "There you are. I was looking for you." He said with a smile and kissed her lips. "Come on, you're clean now. All I have to do is wait for you to get dried and dressed and I'll find out once and for all what you look like when not in the middle of a crisis." He said and she smiled at him despite the sadness still hiding behind her eyes.

Something else was wrong, he knew...not just her reaction to the images in those reports. She was staring at him as if it hurt to do so.

He decided not to push for the moment, inclining his head to the bag he'd brought which contained her clothes and makeup and waiting for her to nod that she'd seen it before leaving her to get dressed. It was a bit late in the evening for her to be getting all dolled up but it would do wonders for her state of mind. It would provide a familiar routine and chance to look at a reflection of herself that was her true identity, not the result of someone else's actions.

The woman who exited the locker room after a long while was everything he'd been hoping for. Her long blonde hair was now dry, poker straight and glistening, her makeup accentuating the striking color of her eyes. She was wearing a simple black long sleeved shirt of some thin, form-fitting material that hugged every curve of her body. Her porcelain skin was made all the more jarring in contrast to the black. Another mini-skirt was gracing her hips, frayed and faded denim that looked every bit as comfortable as it was.

He let out a low whistle and she grinned, walking to him slowly and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "Hello, Lieutenant Esteridge." She purred as she nipped at his bottom lip. "I don't think you and I have been properly introduced..."

"Mmm...I would have to agree..." He said back in a low, sexy tone and she smiled that mischievous smile of hers.

"See they call me BadGirl, and do you want me to show you why?" She asked and he arched a brow as he nodded. She took his hand in hers, leading him back to his office, lockingthe door and drawing the blinds as he watched with amusement.

She crossed the room, pushing his coffee table aside with her foot in a way that provided the most fantastic sort of view before taking a seat on his couch and beckoning him closer with a curl of her finger. Esteridge smiled, his blue eyes darkening with lust as he pulled off his jacket and tossed it on his desk. She had just started to put her arms up and rest them across the back of the couch when her ribcage reminded her that she'd have to take it easy.

Dear Lieutenant Esteridge could apparently dish it out as well as he could take it, un-tucking and unbuttoning that dress shirt of his to reveal the white undershirt beneath, unbuckling his belt and letting it hang open before starting to approach her. She watched him intently as he lowered to his knees in front of her, urging her to the edge of the couch with a hand behind her ass.

She bit her bottom lip feeling thoroughly seduced and watched the need in his face, putting a hand behind his neck as his hips nestled between her thighs. He took her mouth with his, kissing her as his hands wandered up under her shirt to caress the soft skin of her back. All she could do for a moment was let her head roll back as his lips wandered down her jaw and throat, his touches were intoxicating. She ran her hands inside his opened shirt, up over his shoulders and down the warm muscle of his arms as she stripped away the material. He was quite the vision in that moment, she had to stop to enjoy it. Still wearing his hat, his tanned skin contrasting the white of his undershirt, that belt hanging open and inviting...no, _begging_ her to come on closer.

Her momentary pause to take in the view was used to his advantage. He put a hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her back against the couch, lowering himself so that his mouth could wander over her thighs and smiling as she instinctively parted her legs for him. She couldn't even watch him work his magic once his mouth had settled into her heat, the way he was running his tongue over her and kissing her so hungrily made it all but impossible to open her eyes as she clawed at the couch over her head.

Those thick fingers of his were pressing inside of her and she moaned as her body trembled, wanting so much more than his hand but unable to deny the amount of pleasure he was providing with it. Esteridge was struggling to ignore the urge to get on with it as well, looking up at the twisted smile on her face as she moaned his name and rocked her hips against his hand was making his hard-on throb against the now tight confines of his pants.

He could feel her muscles tightening around his fingers and brought the heat of his mouth to her clit, moaning and sucking as she cursed and slipped over the edge for him. She was holding onto the back of his head and calling out, and as sexy as it was he just couldn't get himself to give a shit whether anyone could hear them.

Once her body had stopped trembling and she released her hold on him, her body totally relaxed on his couch, he pulled off his undershirt, reaching down and pulling hers off as well. He wanted to feel her skin against him and pulled her to the edge of the couch again, trying not to let the sight of her bruised ribs deter him from what they were both starving for.

She smiled at him as she sat up, hissing at the feeling of his warm chest against hers and letting her hands wander down to his pants. He moaned and kissed her frantically as she unzipped the material and let her hand slip inside, stroking his shaft as she freed it. She was already soaked and there was no way he was going to be able to wait any longer for her. He pulled her closer, his hand on hers guiding him to her entrance as he pulled away from their kiss to watch her face.

Slowly he sank inside of her, each of them staring at the pleasure in the others features as he filled her up. She leaned a hand back on the couch and placed the other behind his neck as it began, her eyes closing at how good he felt rocking his hips for her at that slow, maddening pace.

She never wanted it to end, he made her feel alive, an anchor in the middle of so much chaos. The thought made her hold on a little tighter as moments...hours slipped by in a sea of ecstasy.

She wrapped her arms around her lover, kissing him as he came deep inside of her, giving her all of his strength as always. The sounds of him moaning her name as she lay on the floor nuzzled against his bare chest tore at her heart.

Tears streamed down her cheeks for him knowing that long before he awoke she would be gone.


	7. But You're Pretty When You Cry

_****_

Rated: **NC-17**

* * *

**ERASE & REWIND...VERSION 2, PART 7**

**"I DIDN'T WANT TO HURT YOU, BUT YOU'RE PRETTY WHEN YOU CRY..."**

* * *

Esteridge's warm arms were wrapped around her protectively, drawing her closer to him as he enjoyed the scent of her hair. His lips were pressed to her forehead as she traced lazy circles on his chest, smiling in response as he muttered the sweetest things to her. He didn't want to leave that spot, didn't want the morning to come, didn't want the moment to end...

She pretended she could stay there with him, that his embrace would be enough to protect her from it all...that by lying there with him, allowing him to simply _touch_ her, she wasn't putting his life in mortal danger.

She'd been greedy to take him, she knew. The risk was not lost on her but she couldn't help herself. She just wanted to _**be**_ with him, if only for one night when her heart was pleading for so much more. The morning would bring the unknown, a trip into the twisted world of a psychopath she just so happened to care for. At least for that moment she could let Esteridge anchor her sanity.

With a sigh that refused to be contained she nuzzled closer to him, holding on a little tighter as she forced back her fear of Ryder's wrath.

Her eyelids were growing heavy and she allowed herself to drift off for a while, the relief provided by the passionate and loving man in her arms in the past few hours in combination with the painkillers left her body relaxed and lacking the ever present agony of days prior. Sleep crept in slowly and completely, temporarily washing away the sadness that weighed heavily on her heart.

_It wasn't necessary to see him, to hear him. She could feel him there...like a dark presence lurking in the mists of her dreams. _

_Her mind was torn as his proximity invoked powerful emotions in her; part recoiling in horror, part crying out to have him closer still. _

_How could she wish so desperately for someone so dangerous? So unstable and violent? So disturbed? _

_But wish for him she did. It was undeniable. _

_She wanted him with every ember of the inconceivably savage desire burning unchecked within her chest; longed to have him take control, to be under his command. _

_He approached slowly, silently...his face occasionally visible past her barely opened eyelids in the rays of moonlight filtering in through the blinds. There was a voice somewhere in the back of her mind hissing in warning, screaming that he should not be here..._

She smiled at him through her exhaustion, beckoning him closer as she struggled to take in the way he tilted his head to the side, the adoration in that frightening gaze.

_She was so warm, so comfortable, so safe...she closed her eyes again, sighing contentedly and muttering his name as she felt him crouching down beside her._

The world faded into blackness once more, leaving her content knowing he was near...

His hand on her face startled her at first, but she smiled and relaxed just as quickly feeling his fingertips grazing over her flesh...

_At least until she became aware of the warm, thick fluid on those fingers. _

_Her heart leapt up into her throat. She felt Esteridge's limp arm draped over her side and opened her eyes, with a gasp she rolled away from Ryder's grinning face in search of those blue eyes. _

_They stared back at her lifelessly. _

_She sobbed seeing that his throat had been slashed while she lay sleeping in his arms.  
_  
Alisha's eyes flew open and she sat straight up, desperately trying to focus in the darkness. Her hand went to her cheek frantically, searching for the blood as she reached over to Esteridge's throat...finding it warm and whole, his pulse beating in a steady rhythm beneath her fingertips.

She let out a sigh of relief but took heed to the warning. You didn't have to tell her twice. It was time to get the hell out of Dodge and go find Ryder before he could turn her dream into a premonition.

She took one last look at the breathtaking sight of Esteridge where he lay at her side sleeping peacefully. She didn't remember the lights being off when she'd fallen asleep but knew he must have gotten up after she drifted off, he was wearing his pants and had brought them a blanket and pillows from the couch. She smiled despite the pain knowing that he'd covered her up with care and returned to her side quietly so he wouldn't wake her.

As gently as possible she leaned down and kissed his cheek, her heart breaking inside her chest that this was goodbye.

But it was the only way she could save him, and he was worth that much.

With great care she slid away from his side, standing and moving to his desk in the darkness in search of his keys, pulling on her clothes once she had found them and reaching into her bag for her wallet.

She nearly fainted.

The warm fluid inside the bag was pooled around something impossible. It made absolutely no sense. Her mind couldn't even begin to come to terms with the shock it sustained in that second.

A hand...

A human hand...

A recently severed and still body temperature _fucking __**hand**_ was now in her own.

This was a part of someone...and it had been cut off and left for her like a God damned present. She couldn't get herself to move for what felt like minutes as her terror took hold, but must have only been seconds.

"_Oh Fuck..."_ Was all she could gasp in barely more than a whisper as she pulled it free, looking down at it with wide, horrified eyes before the trembling of her grasp caused it to fall to the floor with a nauseatingly wet thud.

The room was spinning and she had to lean on the desk as her legs threatened to give out beneath her. The fact that her blood-slicked hand slid across the wood didn't help her dizziness in the least.

_Esteridge..._if this hand was here than Ryder was here...she needed to wake Esteridge up..._NOW!  
_  
But as she turned and took a breath to call his name her worst nightmares came true.

The sound of the revolver cocking back behind her made cold fears a harsh reality.

* * *

It had been too easy for him to approach the station in his opinion. He'd expected more from the officers, but it seemed his reputation had preceded him. They'd been so afraid to see him standing there that it delayed their reactions...made killing them off one by one child's play. He hated when they were too scared to scream, but given the circumstances he'd just have to settle for a quiet arrival.

Since it was still a local station there had only been twenty or so to busy himself with. An unorganized and sloppy bunch, spread throughout the building's interior and exterior, half of them drifting off to sleep. They were still clinging to their false sense of security, foolishly believing that because it was a police station he'd stay clear. He always found it strange how people believed whatever would make them feel better.

As usual, once they were all spent up he was left wanting more.

There had been one in the bunch that intrigued him, he had offered up anything to avoid a messy and painful death. While Ryder had been tempted to provide exactly what the man feared most - he'd learned some very helpful information. He settled for a single slash to the officer's throat, not really caring if he was keeping his end of the bargain by doing so but eager to see what he had been told of.

Video cameras were marvelous things, in retrospect he mused to himself that they would have been a nice addition to his actions, he could have relived the screams at any time...but he was far too interested in what was on the tape he was currently watching to give it much thought.

He'd learned from the now-deceased officer at his feet that there had been some excitement that evening between his little angel and the Sergeant, that once dear Lieutenant Esteridge was aware of it he had been sure to record all of the incriminating dialog for a trial...

But it wasn't to be the type of trial he'd intended.

And there she was on a little screen before him...that anger he adored etched into her features, her eyes practically glowing with it.

His jaw flexed and knuckles cracked, his hands turning to fists watching the way she'd been treated...

The way she'd been _touched_...

But to his sheer delight the most exhilarating words rolled from that pretty little mouth..."_Ryder is gonna slit your fucking throat, pig_."

His body trembled hearing her declaration and he knelt in front of the screen, pulling it closer to him and tracing the outline of her face in the cool glass. He had to rewind it over and over, her words thundering through his head as he struggled to keep his breathing in check.

_She really did understand...she wanted him there to help her...she was telling her abuser that he would come for her and make him pay..._

And then it happened, that fist was brought across her face and all pleasure caused by hearing her acknowledging that she belonged to him was shattered.

His sight went red, his muscles rigid and he exited the room, not needing to watch any more. He stopped along the way to cut the power, it always made things more interesting and he intended to be paid his dues of blood and fear.

The stool-pigeon had given up the locations of Esteridge, his angel and the soon to be late-Sergeant. He paused outside of Esteridge's office, putting a hand on the door and closing his eyes...

_Soon, angel...soon..._

The stairwell to the holding cells was in its usual spot, seemed most stations in this and the surrounding states were designed in much the same manor and he stood outside the door deciding how he wanted to do this. No power meant no security cameras to broadcast to Esteridge what was coming for these men, but if they started screaming too soon it might spoil the surprise. He smiled to himself, pulling a bloodied uniform shirt and hat from one of his victims, knowing it would buy time...and in all actuality there was only one man in a cage beneath his feet that he planned to take that time with.

In the darkness some thought they were being set free. Some took it a step further - able to see the shape of the hat on his head and assuming there was an emergency that was leading to their release, 

whispering panicked questions while he opened their cell as to whether Ryder was there...he smiled and told them yes, only able to make out the vague outline of the terror on their faces before silencing them.

His hands and arms up to his elbows were slick with blood, the cells that had been occupied (save one) stood open now, each with an example of what happened when you touched something that didn't belong to you.

He couldn't contain his smile listening to the Sergeant's frantic breathing. The unmistakable aroma of blood filled the air and he knew...he was whimpering and backing away, not screaming as the form of Ryder appeared outside his cell...despite the lack of that pleasing sound Ryder was thrilled. The Sergeant knew it wouldn't help.

For a few moment he stayed still, letting his presence drive the man mad with fear. He was muttering indistinctly, switching back and forth between prayer and pleading for mercy. He took his time opening the cell, enjoying the sobs that were now coming from the man's throat.

"I didn't...I just..." The man stammered as Ryder entered the cell, his eyes wide and terrified as he pressed himself against the cinder-block wall.

Ryder was retribution incarnate, dealing out fierce penance for the crimes committed against his little angel.

He cut away every part of the man's body that had touched her porcelain skin, even parts that had _considered_ making contact with her...he'd taken his tongue as punishment for the insults he'd spewed at her, for the way he'd glared at her he took his eyes...but saved them for last, wanting him to watch what was done to him.

It was amazing the amount of torture someone could sustain before their heart gave out.

When it was over he stood alone on blood pooled concrete, slowing his breathing and stripping away the uniform shirt and hat. He wiped off the majority of the blood from his hands and arms on the material before picking up the hand and starting off to see her.

His heart was racing excitedly as he reached the top of the stairs and pulled on his own shirt and jacket, making short work of picking the lock on Esteridge's door.

He closed it behind him silently, staying to the edges of the room and seeing her bag on the edge of the desk. He smiled and set the hand inside with care, even if she didn't find it right away it was bound to have an impact.

He'd killed this one for her; he wanted her to know that he'd answered her call.

Their sleeping forms could be made out on the floor beside the couch and it caused an unfamiliar sensation in his chest. He approached them slowly, his brows drawn together as the feeling grew stronger with each step he took. She was pressed against Esteridge's side, the blanket was only covering them from the hips down and seeing their bare flesh touching was making the new sensation more familiar to him. It was like pain from an injury...only more widespread. It began in his chest and expanded outward like a fire as it made breathing difficult.

She had..._he_ had...

His mind was so loud suddenly. He couldn't get himself to be angry with her for this, he'd made her play the game then left her with these men, she had simply used Esteridge as a stand in, that was all it had to be...she cared for the man, he knew...but she had been driven to give herself to him because of Ryder's own actions...he couldn't blame her...

But _Esteridge_?

His jaw was flexing in anger as he started to move closer. Thoughts of another man taking her in such a way nauseated him, tormented him.

His eyes wandered over her beautiful bare shoulders, those were _his_ shoulders...he took in the way her blonde hair cascaded down across her back and wanted desperately to touch it...it _belonged_ to him...no one else should have ever touched it.

He approached them silently, not wanting them to wake until it was time. He was just considering adding another hand to the bag when she rolled over to face him...he froze in place waiting for her to make the first move...

But she didn't say a word, didn't shout or try to run away...didn't wake the lover she had taken in his stead...

With confusion he continued moving closer, seeing her eyes opened slightly and a loving smile spread across her lips. The moonlight was flickering across his face...she could see it was him...but she wasn't afraid.

He swallowed with great difficulty as she closed her eyes and breathed his name. The sound of it sent pleasure rippling through every nerve he possessed.

Crouching down just a few feet away he studied her relaxed features, the curve of her body; his heart skipping a beat as she sighed in her sleep.

She was _dreaming_...he cocked his head to the side, wondering if she dreamt for him as he did for her.

She looked so peaceful, that smile she'd given him still graced her lips and he reached out to touch it with his bloodied fingers...only to stop as Esteridge's arm snaked over her side. Ryder ground his teeth painfully in disgust watching the man pulling her closer to him, nuzzling his face against the back of her head.

He stood and walked toward the door angrily, pressing a hand to his mouth trying to decide which he wanted more, to kill this man or to continue the game. The fact that he was still _touching_ her was eating Ryder alive.

It was decided - he'd slit his throat and take her away, they'd continue the game somewhere else...

Without warning she sat up straight and he backed up closer to the wall, not wanting to give himself away and miss the opportunity to watch her.

_So she had dreamt of him, after all..._he thought to himself as he watched her one hand go to her cheek and the other to Esteridge's throat.

A smile spread across his face, _smart girl_...she had dreamt of what the outcome had so nearly been.

He fought to stay silent watching her lean down and kiss Esteridge's cheek, hating her for it for the briefest of seconds...until she slid from the man's grasp with care so as not to wake him.

Ryder's jaw fell open watching her walk to the desk...so close to him now and she didn't even know...watching her take the keys to Esteridge's SUV and get dressed.

_She was __**leaving**__...she was going __**to find him**__...she was sneaking away from the police to __**come to him**_...

He was beyond thrilled to see her reaction to the gift with his own eyes, it was even better than he'd imagined. She didn't mask her fear and he struggled to keep his breathing quiet watching her drop the hand and lean on the desk.

She opened her mouth to call out to Esteridge, _sweet thing...she wanted to warn him_...

He pointed the gun at her and pulled the hammer back, loving the way she froze in place instantly and slowly turned to look at him over her shoulder.

He motioned with the gun for her to come closer and she trembled with fear, trying to find the courage to do so. This terror she was giving him was new and he smiled realizing that it wasn't for herself, it was for the sleeping Lieutenant.

On unsteady legs she closed the distance between them, standing a foot away from him and staring up into his eyes with that sadness he'd dreamt of swirling in her own.

He was breathing raggedly, reaching out a bloody hand to her hip and pulling her body flush with his. He wanted to feel it, like in his dream, wanted to taste her pain. Her bottom lip trembled and still she tilted her chin up to him, her eyes wandering to his mouth, somehow knowing what he wanted.

He parted his lips, letting out a choppy sigh of excitement before leaning down and taking her mouth hungrily. She was crying just like his dream, so afraid and sad, kissing him deeply as her hands wandered over his hair and tears streamed down her cheeks.

It was delicious, all of her pain pouring into him as she sobbed into their kiss and held him tightly.

She was his link, his bridge to all of the emotions he'd never been able to rouse in himself. Somehow he could feel it all through her, could drink in the sensations she experienced, ones his own deadened heart had been incapable of experiencing on its own. Pity she'd come so late, though...

His little angel of mercy, clinging to him for comfort when all others ran away...when she _should_ have run away...it was the only reason she was safe in his arms. He couldn't get over the way she stayed despite her fear, the way she allowed herself to succumb to him when all sanity dictated she try her best to distance herself from him.

A noise to their side reached his ears and before he had managed to take his lips from hers he had the gun pointed at Esteridge. He pulled her to his side possessively, glaring at the Lieutenant as he climbed cautiously to his feet. Esteridge pulled the cord on the blinds, knowing what he would find on the other side of the office and wanting more light for what was to come.

"Don't fucking move..." Ryder said in a deadly tone, smiling at the way those blue eyes flashed down to Alisha where she was now struggling against his grasp.

"No..._no, Ryder_...please..._please_ don't do this..." She sobbed and he relaxed his hold enough for her to push away from him slightly, wanting to see the anguish that was twisting her features. Here were the tears she hadn't let fall for her own safety, the pleas she had never uttered when it had been her own head in his sights.

He smiled and drew her to him again, kissing her forehead in appreciation of the emotion she was sharing with him. It only made her cry more and fight harder to get away from him as he dragged her along with him closer to Esteridge.

"Let her go." Esteridge said in a tone far calmer than what was reflecting in his eyes. He gritted his teeth in frustration that he'd left his gun on his desk, he'd underestimated Ryder and it was about to cost him his life, possibly hers as well. "You want to kill me? That's fine...but don't hurt her." He said, watching with pained eyes as she fought to get free.

Ryder's cruel laughter filled the air. "She's safe with me, far safer than with your men, I'd say." He kicked the severed hand across the floor to Esteridge's feet, watching as he tried to focus on it in the moonlight. The arched brow that came in response told him he'd gotten his point across. "What was that...an attempted rape, false imprisonment and assault in less than two days?"

He let out a little tisk-tisk sound, pointing the gun at the center of Esteridge's forehead, his face twisting in rage as images of the two lying together tormented him. "Even _you_...I told you not to be stupid but here you are...I told you not to touch her but you fucked her anyway." The words tasted bitter in his mouth, causing more of that pain in his chest and he glared at Esteridge furiously. "Say something for me..." Alisha was fighting against him frantically now and he tightened his grip until her screams reached that wonderful shrill tone. "Say _'I want to die'_ and I'll make it quick."

Esteridge glared back with just as much rage listening to her painful screams. "Go fuck yourself." He said defiantly. If he was going to die at least he could have the pleasure of messing up Ryder's sick little God trip.

Ryder smiled, nuzzling his face against the hair of the angel fighting in his grasp. "She'll be taking care of that, but thank you for the concern." He said coldly, enjoying the pain that flashed over Esteridge's features.

_Ah, so eager to die, so eager to be brave_...until reminded that after he died nothing would stand between Ryder and his little angel. Esteridge's resolve was faltering, the sudden watery appearance of his eyes telling Ryder that he wasn't as ready to end his role in this game as he pretended to be.

"Not going to say it, then?" He asked, watching Esteridge's jaw flex in frustration. "Suit yourself." He said with a smile and shrug, lowering the gun and aiming it at the Lieutenant's throat, daring him to do something to stop him.

But to his surprise it was Alisha who reacted to the threat. With all of her strength she brought both hands up to the inside of his bicep, slamming into him with enough force to knock the gun off target as it went off, missing Esteridge by at least a foot. He was too quick to recover, however...

All her resistance earned was a hard backhand to the face that sent her to the floor, the hammer of the gun drawn back as it was returned to its original position before Esteridge could even take three steps.

"Ah...that's far enough..." Ryder said, watching his prey with suddenly terrifying eyes.

The excitement was back again, surging through his veins as his heart beat wildly in his chest, spurred on by his momentary altercation with his angel. His mind was reeling at the possibilities between them, his body longing to continue the fight she'd started.

He stole a glance to the place where she'd landed, shocked to find that she was gone. His eyes widened when he heard the sound of a gun cocking back behind him.

"Ryder..." She called and he gritted his teeth.

He side-stepped around Esteridge, keeping the same distance between them as he turned enough to see her. She was standing behind the desk, that police issue 9 mil clutched in her steady hands, but her eyes were anything but.

Pleasure coursed through him at the sight of her, it was like staring at a culmination of everything he wanted from a lover.

"_Do it_." He urged, staring at her with his arousal evident in his features and she struggled not to sob. He grinned, tilting his head to the side. "Which one of us do you think will pull the trigger first?" He asked her, his wide, excited eyes wandering back to the pawn in his crosshairs.

"Drop the gun, John." She said quietly and his shoulders slouched, he looked back at her in disappointment. She wasn't going to do it.

He sighed, she wasn't ready yet. He'd have to keep applying pressure before she'd reach that point. It was his own fault, really. He'd gotten greedy, but in his defense he'd never expected the connection between them...that she would understand him so completely. The first time they'd met she would have done it, she wouldn't have thought twice, it would have been so easy for her...but then he hadn't wanted this to be easy, he'd wanted to earn it.

All that was left here was to finish off the Lieutenant and he could take her away, somewhere else to continue the game...he let his eyes return to the defiant ice blue gaze of the Lieutenant and had just started to squeeze the trigger when she spoke again.

"Ryder." She said, and this time her voice was perfectly steady. His brows drew together in confusion but he didn't acknowledge her, she'd had her chance.

"John, _**look**_ at me." She commanded and he had no choice but to do as she said, his mind shattering at the sight that awaited him.

She hadn't lowered her weapon, but then it was no longer pointed at him, either.

She'd taken a path that he'd never considered in all the years he'd spent fantasizing about having a playmate like her.

That steady grip was still clutching the 9 mil, her eyes now just as calm as the gun pressed firmly to her **temple**.

His jaw hung open uselessly, unable to form a word of protest as his mind went silent. He couldn't think of a single thing to do, to say to make her stop. There was _pain_...real pain in his eyes in that moment and she found herself relieved seeing it. She'd found a way to get through to him.

All he could do was stare at her, begging her, pleading her with his anguished expression to stop the torture she was inflicting on him with her threat.

"Drop the gun." She insisted again, watching as he distractedly shook his head. She sighed, she knew it wouldn't be that simple. "If you pull that trigger then I die, too, Ryder. Do you understand me? If he dies then I die. If you kill him you will lose me - you can't have both. You'll be alone in the world again, no one will ever see you like I do, you will lose your one chance. Choose, John."

Her words sliced through him like knives, inflicting more of the horrible pain and panic he'd never been able to experience before. His mind was chaos now, weighing out every option and finding that none would be to his liking.

If he pulled the trigger than she would as well, using her death as a punishment for his defiance of her wishes. She was right, he'd be alone again, he'd have to keep on until someone put him out of his misery, but it wouldn't be by her hands...it wouldn't be the way it was intended...

If he lowered his weapon but kept it in hand, tried to rush her and stop her she might pull the trigger anyway, knowing that he would still plan to kill Esteridge.

If he dropped the gun then he still ran the risk of dying at the wrong hands, Esteridge would waste no time trying to put him down but it wasn't for him to do.

His chest was constricting and he was breathing fast, his eyes locked on the front of the desk so that the sight of her in that moment wouldn't further his pain.

Esteridge shot her a stricken look and she tried to let the resolve in her eyes assure him that this was the only way, but it was difficult for him to take any comfort from it when a gun was pressed to the side of her head.

She watched the war that was raging behind Ryder's eyes, understanding all of the options he was considering and deciding it was time to give him one that he could latch on to.

"Come with me..." She whispered, waiting for those pained eyes, now tinged with confusion, to flash back to hers. "We'll leave here and I will help you...but if you hurt him I won't...you have to do this for me. I'm going to walk to the door now, if you want to leave with me...to be with me you will follow."

Ryder swallowed with great difficulty, considering her words.

Esteridge opened his mouth to protest but she held up a hand, pleading with him with her eyes to stay silent for this. He needed to remain in the background of Ryder's thoughts until the decision was made, if he drew attention to himself now, with Ryder so uncharacteristically out of control of the situation, he ran the risk of shattering his one chance at survival.

She started toward the door, watching Ryder trying desperately to muster up rage...his face would take on its usual anger, only to falter the second his gaze returned to the gun in her hand. He was out of his element, feeling completely helpless to stop the events that were playing out before him.

With a growl of complete frustration he began backing away from Esteridge and toward her. He wanted the man's blood on his hands, wanted to watch him suffer...but he needed her to lower that gun before he did anything. She tossed him the keys to the SUV and he caught them grudgingly...so she intended to keep up the threat until they'd put some distance between them and the station.

"Don't follow us, Esteridge..._please_..." She said in response to his pained expression as tears began streaming down her face.

Esteridge didn't know what to do, was as lost as Ryder in that moment. If he moved he ran the risk of Ryder shooting him, but if he did nothing the two would leave together...

He decided he had no choice but to let them. At least if he was still breathing he stood a chance of finding them, the knowledge that there was a GPS in the vehicle only helped to ease his fears slightly.

Once out in the hallway Ryder slammed the door of the office, letting his eyes wander to her for a second before starting toward the front door. He listened to her following along behind him as he pressed his trembling hand to his mouth and walked outside.

He approached the vehicle and glared at her over the hood as she walked to the passenger side, resenting her slightly for inflicting such pain on him...though part of him was intrigued by his own emotion in that moment. It was new for him to be the victim, to be the puppet instead of the one holding the strings.

She climbed in beside him and watched him start the engine, keeping herself as close to her door as possible to prevent him from snatching the gun away. She knew she would pay for this, but her heart was practically singing that Esteridge was still alive as they drove away into the sunrise.


	8. Of Serpents and Seraphs

_**Rated:**_ **NC-17**

**

* * *

**

ERASE & REWIND...VERSION 2, PART 8

**"OF SERPENTS AND SERAPHS..."**

* * *

The further they drove from the station the more difficult it became for her to deal with the idea of lowering that gun.

Ryder was growing steadily more furious, it seemed he had finally managed to muster up rage for her actions after all.

She didn't fear for her life, knew he wouldn't kill her...but there were things far worse than her own death...ways to hurt her more than by simply murdering her. He swerved toward oncoming traffic...cars loaded with families, his terrifying eyes telling her that whatever punishment he chose for her would not be to her liking. Her only hope was to keep him driving further into the desolate nothingness until they could stop somewhere with few innocent lives nearby.

An hour had passed now, the white of his knuckles on the steering wheel mirroring the paler-than-normal complexion of her stricken face.

She had saved Esteridge, true enough...but at what cost? Had she been selfish to do it? What if Ryder killed a child in his stead? She felt nauseous just contemplating it, knowing that if given the choice Esteridge would have gladly taken that bullet.

She cursed her naivety for not considering the repercussions in advance, but what else could she have done? Stood by and let the man she loved be murdered by...the _psychopath _she loved?

_Oh God..._she thought, nearly retching in response once that sentence formed in her head. She felt like she was losing her mind. The gun at her temple suddenly seemed pretty damned inviting, but she knew it was the coward's way out. If she killed herself right there he would undoubtedly come undone, the thought of how many lives would be taken in his crazed grief over the loss of her was terrifying.

She had to think of a plan, she knew, and quick. She was running out of time. The fuel gauge read less than a quarter tank to go and she found herself watching it like a countdown to doomsday. Her eyes were scanning their surroundings, praying for an abandoned building, a shed, ANYWHERE that wouldn't provide another victim for him.  
_**  
**_  
He shifted in his seat and she eyed him suspiciously, seeing a smile spreading across his lips as his posture relaxed. It wasn't the least bit comforting, in fact it was a _really _bad sign that something had just occured to him which he found amusing.

Before she could even ask him to share the faded, weather-beaten sign came into view and her heart sank.

'_Sands Motel - 80 miles before next fuel station'_.

He looked over at her with that smile widening and she swallowed hard, not having a choice in the matter now. She gritted her teeth as he nodded to himself that she'd taken the hint, no more putting it off.

She took a small measure of comfort seeing how run-down the place was, if there was an innocent life out here at least they'd be packing some serious heat...if they weren't then they were just plain stupid...or not innocent at all. She knew if she was staying out in the middle of east bumfuck she'd have a shotgun for each hand, no one was going to come to help this far from any hint of civilization.

They pulled in and she was racking her brain for a solution, weighing out her options. If she kept the gun to her head she might be able to get him to pump the gas and get back in without incident...maybe she could get him to drive out to the middle of the desert with her before lowering it...

But she didn't even have a chance to _consider _reacting before he'd gone from casually climbing out of the SUV to lunging at her. He'd seen her lost in thought, gauged her reaction time and knew his own speed...he was completely certain she didn't stand a chance of getting off a shot or he never would have tried it, and as his weight crashed into her, slamming her against the door she knew it was all over for her.

He was climbing over her in the cramped space of the passenger seat as she screamed and fought for control, getting to work pulling the gun from her hand, pointing it over his shoulder as she struggled to keep a hold on it. For his own sick amusement he waited until her face was turned away and squeezed her finger down on the trigger...showing her what would happen if she didn't let go.

The shot went off an inch away from his head causing her to shriek in terror thinking it was done...that she'd look up and find his dead body collapsing onto her. She only found his grinning face and yelped as he pulled the lever to drop the seat backward, pinning her down as he settled over her, waiting for her to tire herself out trying to buck him off of her before leaning closer.

"You stupid..._stupid _girl..." He growled, and with that it began.

The vehicle was jostling on its shocks with the force of the violence being unleashed in its confines.

She kicked and punched but it didn't help, he was too large...the size of him filled almost every available inch above her in the confines of the passenger seat. Her feet were sliding off the dash uselessly and an idea occurred to her...

She slammed her boot against the center of the dash behind him twice as hard as she could...

But Ryder knew what she was up to and straddled her legs immediately, pinning them to prevent her from triggering the airbag. She whimpered at the missed chance to fend him off.

His massive hand closed around her throat as he attacked and she struggled to scream past his tightening grip, only to have her attempt cut short by another backhand.

She closed her eyes, trying desperately to block it out and be somewhere else in that moment.

_She was back with Esteridge, sleeping in his arms with him kissing her forehead, not being pistol-whipped and choked by a mass murderer in the middle of nowhere._

Her body was nothing more than pain wrapped in skin, exhausted and screaming for him to stop; her ears were suffering from the sound of that gun going off so close and the booming volume of his angered voice.

She felt like some child being punished by their (albeit very abusive) parent. He was hitting her, screaming at her...but there was still fear and pain behind those eyes. Through the beating she somehow managed to see...

He wasn't angry with her for letting Esteridge live, he was angry that she'd _scared _him...that she'd made him fear for her safety.

She vaguely noticed that he'd stopped, taking a moment after the last blow had landed to open her eyes.

At first she was sure he'd wrapped her one too many times in the head because she couldn't _possibly_ be seeing what she was seeing...

But it was real. The tear-filled eyes he was suddenly watching her with in the wake of such violence, the grief in his features, the way his hand was now wandering over her face gently...attempting to soothe the injuries that he _himself_ had just inflicted...all of it was real.

The small amount of anger for her he'd managed to gather in himself had fizzled out quickly, the unfamiliar pain she'd caused was all that remained and he was completely ill-equipped to handle it.

Her eyes widened in shock as he pulled her up into his arms and held her closely.

She was too afraid of the sudden change in him to speak or even attempt to reciprocate...and to her disbelief her fear-induced distance only made him seem more apologetic for his actions.

Her rigid form was no longer providing the welcoming touches he'd grown so fond of; it made the pain even worse in him. He kissed her hair desperately, holding her tightly and nuzzling closer, frantically seeking any hint of the comfort she had always given.

It was _maddening_ for him; like starving to death and being able to see the food that would sustain him the entire time he suffered. He'd never regretted anything in his life, but from hearing it described he could only presume that was the cause of the terrible ache he felt for lashing out at her, for hurting her.

Why was she _doing_ this to him?

Not just the refusing to hold him...why was she stirring these feelings in him that he shouldn't be able to experience?

He'd grown addicted to her ability to share her own emotions with him, she had been like the perfect drug...but now it seemed he'd never read the list of side effects that came along with taking her.

Slowly, completely unsure of herself, she brought her arms around his back, and immediately his shoulders began to tremble as he buried his face against her neck.

_Oh Christ...is he __**crying**__?_ She thought to herself in terror as he tightened his hold on her. Yeah - she was a goner. It was like somebody had just flipped a switch in him and it was all her doing.

Who knew threatening to blow her own head off would do this to him? She certainly hadn't.

A small glimmer of hope formed in her chest for him, _maybe he wasn't a sociopath after all...maybe this was a good sign_...

But that hope diminished taking into account that if this was the first time he'd experienced anything _resembling_ emotion, and it had taken this many murders - not to mention _beatings _on her part to invoke it, a little sit down with a therapist wasn't exactly going to cure him. She'd had to hold a gun to her head to upset him and the only reason it had was because he intended to use her as a 'suicide by blonde'.

Quite simply, if she killed _herself_ than she couldn't kill _him_.

All of this wasn't exactly boding well for a miraculous recovery and transformation into a law abiding citizen.

"It's..." She began, rolling her eyes and unable to believe what she was saying. "It's okay, Ryder..._I'm _okay...really..." She soothed as she ran her fingers through his short hair. "I'm sorry, baby..."

Oh, it was settled. She'd be in a padded cell by the end of the week. She wondered if she'd at least have a nice view there...

"I'm sorry I did that...and I've had worse beatings...you didn't hurt me too bad..." She offered to his desperate embrace, her skin covered in goose bumps at how insane the whole situation had become. "Let's get inside..." She whispered, hoping to get him indoors before his mood swung back to violence.

The bewilderment in those tormented eyes as he pulled away was beyond her comprehension. She wondered if he'd ever cried before and guessed by the way he nodded and went along with her that the answer was no. He seemed to slip into some sort of shock at that point and while she knew it might prove useful it didn't make it any less rattling to witness.

She struggled from the odd angle she was currently pinned in to open the door, waiting for him to climb out before she was able to move.

The walk to the office of this "motel" (or more accurately, hell-hole) was the most unnerving moment of her life. Ryder walked along behind her, completely silent with his eyes glued to the ground she walked on like some abused animal. She couldn't help but look over her shoulder every few seconds, waiting to see him aiming the gun at the back of her head.

She pulled the filthy glass door open and entered a dimly lit room straight out of a scene from Texas Chainsaw Massacre. The murderer at her back seemed warm and fuzzy by comparison and she resisted the urge to turn them both back around and drive until they ran out of fuel.

"C'I help ya?" Came a gruff voice and she had to squint to make out the form of the hillbilly sitting at a desk behind the counter with his feet up.

It struck her as a bit odd to say the least that the gunshot a few moments prior hadn't brought him out to investigate. To her relief, or disappointment, she wasn't sure which yet, Ryder kept his mouth shut and leaned against the wall inside the doorway, his eyes still glued to the floor.

"We need a room. How much till tomorrow?" She said shortly, not wanting to stay there another minute. For the millionth time she wondered why she'd ever left Philly to begin with.

The man just smirked at her, completely ignoring her question and taking a moment to climb to his feet and make his way over to her.

"You talk funny...where ya from?" He asked and by the way he was eyeing her form her gut told her to leave now before the inevitable happened.

_You smell terrible...do you ever bathe? _Her inner voice snapped back but she held her tongue. This was Ryder's last stop...she wasn't going to cart him around in hopes of finding a hotel with a concierge who _didn't_ want to rape her, she'd just have to grin and bear this.

"Philly, now how much for the room?" She asked through a tightly clenched jaw.

"_Suuuwee_, you be a _long _way from home little girl..." Was all he offered through what remained of his teeth as he swatted a fly. She hoped he didn't notice that her fingers were digging into the front of the counter to resist the urge to deck him. "Hey Bobby! Why'on't ya come on out and see what we got here..." He called over his shoulder and her stomach tied in knots.

One hillbilly, bad enough..._**two**_ hillbillies? Time to leave. Especially when the events of the past several days and the countless injuries she'd endured were weighing down on her like a ton of bricks.

A overweight and sweat-soaked example of why incest was never a good idea entered the room to her side and her body went rigid. He was leering at her openly, ignoring Ryder completely as was the other man.

With a lopsided grin he started toward her, his amusement growing seeing her take a step back. "Wow…you sure are perty..." He breathed as the other man started around the counter and she held up a hand.

"Come on guys..we don't want a problem, we just want a room...and _trust_ me, that's not a good idea." She said as they both closed the distance between them and her.

"We'll get ya'room...won't take no money though, don't do much good this far out..." The older one said as he reached toward her and she backed up another step to dodge his hand. "The dummy can stay where ever he wants, ain't none of'em locked. But you stay here with us and work off the cost of the room..."

_Dummy?_ Her mind reeled. _So, they figured he was mute or slow or something...man were they in for a surprise._

"Take the fucking truck out there for all I care, you touch me and we're gonna have a serious problem." She hissed, her temper now flaring.

"Aww, don't be like that...I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself..." The sweaty one said, before she could react in the small space of the office he had stepped around behind her, and now she was left trapped between them with no other option but to fight.

_For fuck's sake, couldn't they see she had enough problems already?_ She thought bitterly.

He reached out one of those filthy hands for her, and just before it made contact she'd grabbed a pen from the counter and stabbed him through his palm with it.

He screamed and recoiled, looking down at the piercing she'd given him in disbelief.

The older one lunged for her and she swept his legs as fast as she could, dropping him to the ground and trying to get out from between the two of them before they recovered. Her panic-stricken eyes flashed to John at the other end of the office, finding him still standing there in that catatonic state as her mind screamed that this was a horrible time to have a broken sociopath on her hands.

She had almost made it clear when the man she'd dropped grabbed her ankle, yanking back and sending her face-first to the wooden floor beside him.

Her vision was tunneling in terror as he quickly climbed on top of her. She knew she was screaming and fighting back, could see her hands moving against him defensively...but she was so afraid in that moment that she couldn't feel herself doing it. There was that terrible smile, just a few inches away now, his horrible breath in her face, her blind panic making the few seconds seem like an eternity.

The sounds of him gurgling and the fluid on her face didn't make any sense at first, the way his eyes widened in shock...

His body collapsed on top of her and it wasn't until the second man's body fell to the floor at her side that she started to gather what was happening.

She saw Ryder's disgusted look as he shoved the lifeless body above her to the side, reaching down and hauling her to her feet by her hair as she struggled to snap out of it. By the grip he had on her and the crazed look in his eyes it was easy to see that Ryder was most definitely back.

Her face was warm and wet and she stifled a sob seeing the blood that was covering her from the slashed throat of her attacker.

_Again...__**again**__ she was covered in blood..._

She took in the gaping throat of the man Ryder had just pushed off of her, the knife sticking through the second man's skull where it had been plunged through his eye...

Before she could even take a breath to start to scream and cry Ryder had snatched her by her hair again; growling in frustration for her weakness as he did.

He didn't say a single word to her as he yanked her out the door and pulled her along to one of the neglected rooms. He shoved her inside and slammed the door, locking it behind them as she stood perfectly still with him at her back.

She didn't have time to protest in her dazed state before he had dragged her to the bathroom, tossing her fully clothed into the shower, turning on the water and pulling the curtain closed all in what seemed like one swift motion. He left her to gasp at the sudden ice cold water, sputtering and sobbing as it began to wash away the blood.

The interior of the bathroom was dimly lit by a single dust covered bulb, casting a yellow glow on her surroundings and making the appearance of her own blood-slicked form all the more disturbing.

She would never feel clean again, part of her feared. At least the first time she hadn't _seen_ how the blood ended up on her or who it had come from. This time it felt like the dirty bastard himself was covering her skin, not just his blood, and she wanted it _off of her_.

She turned the handles until the water was scalding hot, seeing a bar of soap that she never would have considered using if it hadn't still been in its wrapper. It looked at least as old as she was but it made no difference, anything was better than the essence of a dead hillbilly on her skin. As she cried she pulled away her blood soaked clothes, somewhat thankful that she'd elected the long sleeve shirt instead of a tank top as most of the blood came off with it.

Her skin was raw by the time she stopped scrubbing, and while she was still convinced that she'd missed some trace of the man's filth, after all that had happened her body was too sore to keep standing much longer.

Once she shut off the water she found herself staring at the curtain fearfully, wringing her hands and feeling more vulnerable than could be caused by her nudity alone, recalling the crazed look in Ryder's eyes just a few moments earlier.

The sound of the bulb shattering caused her to yelp as the room fell to darkness, every muscle in her body now paralyzed with fear.

They were alone now, and not just alone like they had been when they had driven here...alone as in she was no longer in control, he was roaming freely and she no longer had him on a leash like she did with that gun pressed to the side of her head.

She was all alone with Ryder, and he was completely unrestrained. There would be no running away, no interruptions now.

It took a pretty damned long time to get herself to open that curtain, and even then her hand was shaking so terribly that she almost couldn't grip the material to push it aside.

The room was pitch black now despite the time of day, the thick curtains had been drawn and effectively blotted out all traces of sunlight. She stepped out of the tub slowly, her eyes wide and unblinking, her heart thundering in her ears as she struggled to breathe past her terror.

He was the wolf out there somewhere, and she was just a naked little lamb wandering into his den.

The times she'd let him touch her before seemed distant memories, he'd been at least somewhat lucid in those moments, but now? He was a whole new level of psychotic, revelling in the control he had over her again, leaving her to come to him in the darkness.

He stood against the wall, inhaling the scent of her fear as she approached and watching her struggle to focus in the absence of light.

She was utterly _everything_. His enemy, his savior...both his murderer and victim...he loathed her with just as much crazed passion as he loved her. He wanted so badly to hurt her, to hear her screaming and pleading for death...but longed to hear those moans of pleasure again. She was his serpent and seraph alike, all at once a deadly poison and his only cure.

Every time he'd seen her was flashing through his mind in fast succession, flickering and scratched like old film in no particular order, set to the soundtrack of her screams of rage. It was like a movie he couldn't stop watching.

_The way she'd looked through the scope of his rifle from the rooftop...the way she'd held that ratchet, that knife when they'd first met...the look on her face when she'd turned to face him in the darkness of Esteridge's office...the serene appearance she'd had when sleeping in her hospital bed...her angry face on that video tape...the grave expression she'd had when pointing that gun to her temple...the image of her sleeping in Esteridge's arms...the way she had kissed him against her car when she should have been trying to get away...the fear and pain on her face when that fuck had climbed on top of her just a short while ago...the image of her covered in blood as he lay her on the road like bait..._

She was so close now, every muscle in her body tensed and ready for an attack as she willed herself to venture deeper into the room. He reached out a hand, brushing her shoulder with his fingertips and immediately stepping away, smiling as she spun toward the place where he'd been standing with wide, unseeing eyes. It took time to learn how to let your eyes adjust quickly in total darkness, unlike her he'd had plenty of practice.

The room was silent around her and she desperately sought any hint of courage within herself as her bottom lip quivered, struggling to contain the little whimpers of fear that kept forming in her throat.

Faster than she could comprehend he was there, slamming her against the wall as his hand closed around her throat.

Tighter...tighter..._tighter_...

Her eyes were bulging in shock as he cut off her air supply, but he wouldn't kill her_...he wouldn't kill her...  
_  
She clung to that belief in blind terror as she instinctively tried to pry his fingers away from her windpipe, unable to move the rest of her body as he pinned her in place.

She couldn't make a single sound as the edges of her vision became blindingly white. She could hear his excited breathing, feel its warmth on her face as she started to lose consciousness.

Her eyes were rolling back inside her head and the last sensation she felt before she faded away was his savage kiss against her breathless lips...

Her body fell to the floor in a heap, Ryder standing over her motionless form breathing raggedly in his heated arousal.

_But he wouldn't kill her_...would he?


	9. I Just Want Something I Can Never Have

_**Rated:**_ **NC-17**

_**

* * *

**_

ERASE & REWIND...VERSION 2, PART 9

"I JUST WANT SOMETHING I CAN NEVER HAVE"

* * *

Esteridge was going insane waiting for backup to arrive. It had only been a matter of minutes since he'd been forced to watch Alisha and Ryder drive off but it felt like an eternity.

He shouted orders into his radio as he paced his office; it seemed like the only place in the station that wasn't slick with blood...aside from the small puddle of it gathering around the severed hand laying in the middle of his floor.

He glared down at the dismembered piece of his Sergeant and shook his head, ignoring its presence as he continued speaking to dispatch, trying to busy his mind with protocol so he wouldn't have to think about...

Evidence collection would be a nightmare. It would take weeks and in the end it would be completely pointless. There was no way Ryder was going to live to stand trial, he'd never allow himself to be taken in.

The rounds had already been made to get a death toll and it was unsettling to say the least that he was the only one left breathing in an entire building of dead officers. When he'd reached the top of the stairs to the holding cells and shown his flashlight into the darkness he'd decided very quickly that there was no need to check for survivors, the floor all the way to the base of the steps was now pooled with blood.

He found himself grabbing Alisha's cigarettes off the desk and lighting one up out of a long-since-kicked habit to steady his nerves. The term 'Cowboy-Killers' came to mind as he took a drag on the Marlboro but he had a more immediate potential cause of death on his part to worry about. Alisha's laughter at his words 'those things'll kill you' was completely justified in his mind.

Just thinking about her made his chest ache uncontrollably, he tried not to picture where they were in that moment...to wonder whether she still had that gun pressed to her temple...whether Ryder had gotten it away from her or worse, she had been forced to use it on herself...

He ran his hand over his face roughly and rubbed his eyes desperately trying to still the memory of her walking out the door, crying and pleading with him not to follow. There wasn't a time in his life he could recall ever feeling so helpless.

The sounds of sirens approaching earned a sigh of slight relief from him. He quickly exited his office and made his way out the front door of the station.

To hell with giving his statement, screw the paperwork they'd undoubtedly want him to sign giving authorization for the massive police presence he'd just ordered in...they wanted to talk they could do it over the radio. He waited for the first five cars to skid to a halt in front of him, the officers climbing out of their vehicles before he started speaking.

"Who has the GPS for the vehicle Ryder took already linked on their laptop?" He yelled, watching as they pointed to the off-road truck that was pulling in behind them. "Good, I'm taking that one." He announced, his blazing blue eyes leaving no room for argument. He rushed to the door of the truck, opening it the second it had stopped. The officer inside held up his hands and climbed out, understanding by what he'd been told that it was best not to question the Lieutenant right then.

Esteridge didn't say another word as he climbed in and slammed the door, the massive tires of the truck kicking up clouds of dust as he punched the accelerator and peeled out onto the road.

The officers were all climbing back into their vehicles, sirens wailing as they tried desperately to keep up with him...it proved difficult, Esteridge was on a mission.

* * *

She was so utterly _still_ in his arms...

So silent and at peace.

Pity those striking eyes of hers couldn't look up at him now.

He had turned on one of the dim lamps of the room so that he could see her better, carrying her limp body to the bed and laying her on her side, climbing up beside her and taking in the beauty of her naked form.

She had stood up to quite a bit of abuse in the past few days and his fingers traced over the wounds he'd inflicted...the bruising on her cheek, his bite-mark on her shoulder, the bruising on her ribs...she was all _his_...

He settled down behind her, spooning with her and nuzzling his face against her hair, letting his rough hands wander over the curve of her hips and shoulders.

The vision of her wide, terrified eyes as he choked the life from her was one he wished he could carry with him into whatever hell lay ahead of him.

She had looked so shocked, so betrayed in that moment...so _beautiful_ in her unmasked fear as her heart stilled for him.

He wrapped his arms around her, pressing his lips to her cheek and whispering his appreciation for another emotion she'd shared with him...this one was different. This one was special. He knew she'd never been able to give it to another man, it was his alone to cherish.

Standing from the bed he retrieved his knife from his coat, rolling her onto her back once he returned and climbing over her.

A smile came to his lips as he ran the cold blade over her cheek, down her throat and over her sternum, not breaking the skin...he was waiting for something...

It would take a while, he knew...but he'd let go just in time, had prolonged his pleasure until another second without air would have stolen her life. Her eyes were moving beneath their lids now, small murmurs coming from her lips as she tried to climb back out from the dark hole he'd plunged her into.

He bit his lip letting the blade wander over her stomach, his arousal to have her all to himself was overwhelming. No one could take her away now, she belonged to him.

He broke just enough skin with the tip of the knife to ensure a scar as he carved a heart...his heart...into the flesh of her hip. She would have it to remember him by long after he'd gone, but then he'd left it with her the day he met her anyway. She had many tattoos on her body, as he'd learned while she slept, he doubted she would mind one more...especially one so personal.

His breathing quickened in anticipation, _it would be soon now_...

Contemplating the level of anger she would show once she awoke sent a thrill through him, that primal rage she had deep inside of her that had caught his attention from the very beginning was about to resurface.

He leaned down to her, kissing her mouth and waiting...

In an instant she was fighting against him, screaming into his kiss as he quickly pinned her wrists beneath one of his hands and held them in place over her head. Her entire body was writhing in fury for what he had done to her, her eyes glowing with violent intentions as he smiled and kept his mouth pressed to hers.

He watched that rage quickly reach a boiling point and pulled away from their kiss, smiling and letting her go...

She was so _strong_ despite her size. He marvelled over the force she was able to muster as she attacked him, her fists connecting blow after blow as he lay back against the headboard, letting her climb on top of him, not wanting to miss a moment of the assault she was dishing out.

Her makeup was streaked down her face from the shower, those severe black lines streaming over her porcelain skin as if she'd been crying...and her hair was different now, he noticed...no longer poker straight and restrained from its natural form...having dried on its own it was wild and wavy, adding to the feral allure of her appearance in that moment.

The actual attack was irrelevant to him, he simply wanted to watch her doing it. Eventually she would notice that her actions were serving no good, but until then he could enjoy the view as she worked off some of her anger.

After several moments she began to cry as she hit him, the tides of rage waning in the presence of that damnable adoration in his face. It was so difficult to keep up the fight when there was such admiration in his eyes for it, the fact that he was completely unphased by the abuse wore down on her resolve.

Like cursing the sun for being too bright or the seas for being too rough, this punishment she was giving him only wasted her energy...she couldn't **_beat_** the psychotic tendencies out of him. It served no purpose to abuse him in hopes of changing him, to chastise him for simply being what he was.

She couldn't make him understand that what he had done was wrong because in his world it simply **_wasn't_**.

Eventually he was reaching up to her, and after fighting his hands off several times, hearing herself screaming disgust for it, she finally submitted, letting him pull her down to his chest and hold her as she sobbed.

Her body ached terribly, her head was pounding and she was exhausted as she cried and held on to him. The fact that she was seeking comfort from him only made her cry harder.

He had just tried to _**kill her**_...or at least that's damned sure what it had felt like when it happened...

The fact that she was still breathing made it clear that it simply was not the case, she knew full well that if he'd wanted her dead she most definitely would have been.

It did little to comfort the aftermath of such terror, though.

His rough hands were wandering over the bare skin of her back, mimicking the soothing touches she'd given when he had been the one upset.

With a whimper she realized that here she was...totally naked...straddling Ryder...while he was touching her...in bed.

She leaned back away from him, eyeing him fearfully and he brought his hands down to her hips, lust for her burning in his eyes as he bit his lip and let his gaze wander over her body. She shuddered in terror at the insinuation...and something else that all sanity dictated shouldn't be present in her mind.

Her body seemed to disagree.

She felt the muscles of her back instinctively trying to arch, to surrender to his dominance and she _hated_ it.

He'd somehow managed to break her sanity to the point where she was becoming steadily more aroused by his hands and eyes wandering over her body.

She was becoming more aware of the hardness inside his pants that was settled between her thighs. She knew she couldn't get away even if she tried, this was going to happen whether she liked it or not...but did that make it acceptable to do what her body was now begging for?

Ryder was still leaning back against the headboard, watching the thoughts swirling behind her blue and yellow eyes.

Parts of her were reacting to him in ways he'd never dared to hope for, he could feel her pulse quickening beneath his fingertips as he watched her nipples harden, could smell her heated arousal as her breathing started to come in short, fast bursts. He looked up at her, locking his eyes with hers as he licked his lips.

Her body was already acknowledging that it belonged to him, now her mind had to follow suit.

A small moan fell from her lips, her eyes closing as he lifted his hips beneath her just enough to make her to lean forward, her hands went to his chest to catch herself as she struggled to keep control of the primal needs coursing through her veins.

Ryder watched her with amusement, just as starved for this as she was and enjoying the hell out of watching her fight it.

Her breathing was becoming more labored, her lips parting despite her best efforts and soft little sighs were escaping her; her fingertips were digging into his chest as her surrendering mind began to paint vivid images of what it was after.

She was losing this battle miserably, but managed to rationalize it to herself like this: she had two choices, be raped by someone she was attracted to and run the risk of _further_ injury, or submit to her own desire for him and make the best of it.

Ryder groaned and panted as she leaned down and took his mouth in a starved kiss, her hands quickly getting to work on ripping open the front of his shirt.

He sat up and smiled as she pulled the material away from him, seeing her eyes wander over the wounds she'd given him with her knife the day they'd met. She held him close and his body trembled uncontrollably to have her bare chest pressed to his.

He was keeping his thoughts on what she was doing, the way she felt, the way she tasted, desperately avoiding thoughts that would stir his violent tendencies.

It surprised him to realize he didn't want to hurt her in this...he actually felt honest fear that he might lose control and take her life and was working to avoid it.

This wasn't his normal release, this was what had been promised by her touches that day he'd found her on the side of the road. He usually needed the screams of unadulterated terror, the fighting...but she just felt so damned good, her hot little mouth against his jaw...the sound of her breathy moans in his ear...her hands in his hair as he dipped his head down and kissed her breasts.

She was grinding against him through the material of his pants and he'd had enough of the torture already, taking her with him as he stood from the bed. She smiled as he let her down to stand on her own two feet and kissed him teasingly as she unfastened his belt and left a trail of hot kisses down his chest and stomach.

He eyed her in disbelief as she knelt before him, her mouth and hands suddenly providing a blinding level of pleasure as he grabbed a handful of her hair. She let her eyes flutter closed and it was all he could do to keep standing as she took him to the back of her throat.

The guttural sounds coming from him left her panting and soaked, he just didn't hold back...didn't care what sounds he made, just let loose whatever growl or groan her touches inflicted on him and it was intoxicating.

He grabbed her by the back of her arms, pulling her up the front of him until she was standing and pulled her body flush with his, staring at her in that pained pleasure she'd grown so addicted to.

His eyes were like bottomless pits, his entire body so hot and hard as he panted, his rough hands sending fire through her every time they made contact with her flesh.

She kissed him hungrily as he lay her back on the bed and positioned her right where he wanted her as if her weight were meaningless, spreading her legs and giving a twisted smile as he moved between them.

She stared up into his eyes as he inched his way inside of her, watched his face agonize over the pleasure coursing through his body and wrapped her legs around him, keeping him linked to her...reminding him with her hands in his hair and kisses on his jaw that this was different, that he was welcome, that he didn't have to hurt her...

Part of her was terrified that he'd slip over the edge at any moment, that he'd fall into old habits and she'd be dead before he even realized what he was doing. The fact that she knew he was terrified of the exact same thing...that he would grieve for it so completely made her sympathy for him stir. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he slid his arms beneath her to hold her closer.

It wasn't something he did because he wanted to, it was just something he did. Nothing would make him stop and he knew that. He couldn't switch it off, he couldn't just **decide** to be sane...it was for this reason he wanted someone to end it, and his decision that he needed to be stopped was the one redeeming quality he had, it was what drew her to him...the reason why she couldn't get herself to see through him like everyone else did.

His was a painful, miserable and deadened existence. He brought no good to the world and the world, in turn, offered no joy or warmth to him.

These were his final minutes and they were filled with the first real pleasure he'd ever experienced in his life.

He kissed her hair and let her moans wash over him, his body tensing as she rocked her hips in time with his.

There was a sadness filling him along with all the rest of it as he realized that he didn't want this to end. If he wasn't so broken he would have given anything to stay there with her, she calmed his soul and soothed his shattered mind with her touches...but it wasn't to be. He was what he was and nothing would change it.

Tears were streaming down her face when he looked down at her and she brought her hand to his cheek, caressing it as tears of his own fell in her palm.

He kissed her so sweetly then, the way she'd shown him, letting her taste all of the pain and joy and pleasure and sorrow that was storming inside of him. They were both crying as they reached their climax, holding onto one another and calling out in ecstasy and grief that this was all there was for them.

Moments passed after it was over and neither of them could bare letting go, this was where it ended and they both knew it.

The sounds of sirens far off in the distance broke the silence and Ryder sat up in the bed, pulling her along with him and looking down at her sorrowful eyes with his own.

"Time to go..." He whispered and she nodded as she fought back a sob.

He stood, motioning for her to get dressed and she noticed that he had washed the blood from her clothes in the tub, they were now hanging up to dry and she gave a weak smile. It hadn't been nearly long enough and the material was still damp but at least they weren't bloody. She pulled them on and watched him pull on his pants and sit on the edge of the bed to wait for her.

Her heart was breaking inside her chest as she approached him, seeing the gun in his hand and sobbing as he held it out to her.

She knelt in front of him and he tilted his head to the side, his sad face forever burning into her memory.

He asked the question he needed to ask, the one from his dream. "Why are you crying?" He whispered and she hugged him, letting him kiss her forehead as she cried harder.

"_Because I don't want you to die. Because I love you_." She choked out and he took a deep breath, holding her closer as he closed his eyes.

The sirens were getting closer, they didn't have much time. He held her at arm's length and whispered softly to her. "What does it feel like?" He asked, studying her tear-streaked face.

She struggled to find words, her voice barely audible past the lump in her throat. "It _hurts_...but it's a different kind of pain..." She whispered and he smiled, putting the gun in her hand.

"I really wish I could have felt that for you." He said honestly as he caressed her cheek with his hand and leaned forward, kissing her lips sweetly.

She couldn't contain the sob that formed in her throat at his words and held on to him desperately, knowing it would be the last time.

He urged her to stand and looked her in the eyes. "Time's up." He whispered, waiting for her to take a deep breath and nod.

"Where?" She asked through gritted teeth and he smiled that she'd asked.

_Did he want it to be quick or slow?_ That was what she meant.

If it had been someone else pulling the trigger he would have said slow, would have wanted to experience every second of his own death in one last hope of understanding the fear and pain he inflicted. But for her he wanted this to be over quickly, knew she would stay with him after he was gone and wanted to spare her watching him suffer.

He guided the gun to his forehead, looking up at her one last time. "Thank you..." He breathed as his face relaxed and eyes closed.

This was the only way, she had to do it...but it didn't make it any easier.

He listened to her take a deep breath to steady her nerves and smiled in relief at the sound.

"Goodbye, Ryder...I'll miss you..." She whispered.

That shot echoed through her mind long after the sound had faded away.

She lay down on the bed, curling up beside him and weeping uncontrollably, touching his still smiling lips and wishing things had been different, part of her wanting to take it back, to relive the past few minutes and not pull that trigger...but it was a selfish wish. He wasn't suffering any more and the world was a safer place...even if her heart ached every day for the rest of her life it had still been the right decision.

There were vehicles skidding to a halt outside now, a chorus of sirens wailing their arrival and she leaned down to him, kissing his lips and sobbing before forcing herself to stand and walk away from him. She knew she'd left a piece of her heart by his side, it would never leave him.

She exited the room into the blindingly bright sun of mid morning, her ears barely hearing anything as she slipped into shock.

The officers were swarming the main office and she walked across the parking lot toward them in a daze. Her feet felt heavy and her eyes were struggling to stay open, she just wanted to go back and lay down in that bed and cry forever but she knew she needed to keep moving.

Above all other sounds, all of the background noise, she heard him.

_Her anchor, her blue eyed angel_.

He raced toward her and she stood still, breaking down completely at the sight of him and collapsing into his arms once he reached her. She held onto him like life itself, hiding away from the world in the safety of his arms. Those eyes were frantically searching her for injuries as he hurriedly carried her away from the rooms, unsure if Ryder would be coming out any time soon. He was kissing her face, telling her that he was so relieved that she was safe, tears in his eyes as he held her to his chest protectively.

But she just couldn't stop crying, through the ride in the ambulance or the days that followed in the hospital. Her family had flown in, finally made aware of what was going on by Esteridge while she was too stricken to protest him calling them.

Everyone just assumed she was traumatized by her time with a killer and offered their support, her room was filled with flowers and weak smiles, teary eyes and hands squeezing hers in reassurance. None of it could stem the pain. None of them knew what she was going through...

But Esteridge knew.

He was the only person who understood that she wasn't dealing with some traumatic event, she was _**grieving**_.

The fact that he knew this, had come to terms with the fact that something had happened between her and Ryder that no one else had seen and still stayed by her side was incredible.

His hand was molded for hers, there wasn't a moment when he wasn't there with her, she wondered if he ever ate or slept in the days...the weeks that followed as she struggled to come out of her shell.

* * *

Three months had passed since that gunshot and she still heard it in her dreams. The pain hadn't lessened at all, but at least she was learning to function despite it.

She had moved in with Esteridge and her mother was positively thrilled, he was like a flesh and blood character out of a John Wayne movie that her little girl had set out on a trip cross country to land.

He had informed her that she needed to stop calling him Esteridge, it wouldn't work since very shortly it would be her own last name as well.

And so he was her "Michael" now, fittingly enough since the man was her angel, and the love she found in those blue eyes still astounded her.

Nothing had been able to stress her out since he'd stepped in. He'd taken care of every detail as she 'recovered', right down to having all of her belongings shipped to his house within a day of her accepting his invitation to stay with him. He'd even asked her mother to come stay for a few weeks, not wanting to leave Alisha alone once he eventually had to return to his duties. To say her mother was tickled pink would be putting it mildly.

She wasn't accustomed to having a man take care of her as he did, and if she wasn't so thoroughly mentally exhausted she figured she would have done something to mess it all up. But for the first time she felt a sense of contentedness, like she could breathe.

Or at least she had felt that way, until just a moment earlier.

The cloud free sky outside was a brilliant blue, birds chirping happily in the cool morning air. Michael was downstairs in his office filling out paperwork and she had slipped up to their room, unable to put this off any longer.

Who would have thought two little pink lines on a strip could have such an effect on a woman? She stared at it as she sat on the edge of the tub, terrified and excited all at once.

Her hand wandered to her belly and she chewed the inside of her cheek, letting her fingers dip a little lower to Ryder's heart on her hip.

She knew this should be a horribly tough decision to make, but her mind instantly refused to consider putting an end to it.

It could be either of them, after all...and even if it wasn't Michael she couldn't stomach the thought of killing Ryder twice.

Movement caught her eye and she turned to see him standing in the doorway, watching her with those loving eyes.

"Was wondering when you were gonna take one of those damned things." He said with a smile and she forced one in return, watching him approach and kneel down in front of her. He sighed and took her hands in his. "Look, I know..." He trailed off, giving her that half-smile he used when he didn't want to say something and she nodded.

He sat down beside her and pulled her up into his lap, kissing her cheek before continuing. "But it doesn't matter because we're _**together**_ and even if..."

She laughed softly as this time the half-smile was paired with an arched brow.

"I'll love you both just as much, got it?" He asked and she grinned and nodded excitedly.

He chose to keep to himself the reasons why he'd never had children with his ex-wife, deciding that this child was his no matter the blood that would course through its veins...

"So we're having a baby, huh?" He said, his smile widening as he bounced her on his knee.

She burst into laughter and tears, hugging him and shaking her head that she was actually saying the words. "We're having a baby!"

**THE END.**


End file.
